^ 

<^>. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-a) 


.%^ 


1.0 


I.I 


bi|28     125 


Ui 

u 


140 


I 


2.0 


I^E 


1.25      L4 

11^ 

^ ^ 

6"     — 

► 

1 


.] 


'4 


V 


7 


Photographic 

Sdences 
Corporation 


23  WeST  MAIN  STR'iT 

WCBSTIR.N.Y.  MSM 

(716)872-4503 


1 


I 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microreproductions  historiquaf 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notat/Notes  tachniquaa  at  bibliographiquas 


The  Institute  has  attompted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographicaily  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


D 
D 
D 
D 


n 

D 
D 
D 

D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommagie 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pelliculAe 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I    Coioufpd  maps/ 


Cartes  gdographiques  eii  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli6  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte. 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6x6  film6es. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  nieilleui  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  AtA  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
da  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-#tre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  imago  reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mAthode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiqute  ci-dessous. 


I      I   Coloured  pages/ 


D 
D 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restaur6es  et/ou  pelliculies 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  dicolorAes,  tacheties  ou  piqu^es 


rri    Pages  damaged/ 

I      I    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


□    Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ditach^es 


■"71    Showthrough/ 
^   Transparence 


FT]   Quality  of  print  varies/ 


Quality  inigale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurciss  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  M  filmies  i  nouveau  de  fa9on  it 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dossous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

«M 

J 

12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


Th«  copy  filmed  h«r«  Km  bMn  r«produc«d  thanks 
to  th«  g«n«ro«itv  of: 

Library  of  tita  Pubiic 
Arciiivas  of  Canada 


L'axampiaira'  f ilmi  fut  raproduit  grAca  h  ia 
ginAroaiti  da: 

La  bibliotitAque  das  Arciiives 
publiquas  du  Canada 


Tiia  imagaa  appearing  liara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
poaaibia  conaidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  Icaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  apacificationa. 


Original  copiaa  in  printad  papar  covars  ara  filmad 
beginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illuatrated  imprea- 
aion,  or  the  bacit  covar  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copiaa  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printad  or  illuatrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  laat  page  with  a  printad 
or  illustrated  impreaaion. 


The  laat  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  aymbol  — »>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  aymbol  Y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Lea  images  suivantas  ont  4tA  reproduites  avac  la 
piua  grand  soin,  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  ia  nattat*  da  I'axamplaira  fiim«.  at  mn 
conformity  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Lea  axempiairea  originaux  dont  ia  couvartura  an 
papier  eat  imprimAa  sont  fiimis  an  commandant 
par  la  premier  plat  at  an  tarmlnant  soit  par  ia 
darniire  page  qui  comporta  una  ampreinta 
d'impreasion  ou  d'iiiustration,  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  aelon  ie  caa.  Tous  las  autras  axamplairas 
originaux  sont  filmAs  an  commandant  par  la 
pramlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  ampreinta 
d'impreasion  ou  d'iliuatration  at  an  tarminant  par 
ia  darnlAre  page  qui  comporta  una  taila 
empreinte. 

Un  dea  aymbolea  suivants  apparaitra  sur  ia 
darnlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  salon  Ie 
cas:  la  aymbola  — ►  signifia  "A  SUIVRE",  Ie 
symbole  y  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  piatea,  charta,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratioa.  Thoae  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  expoaura  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  aa  many  framaa  aa 
required.  The  following  diagrama  illuatrata  the 
method: 


Lea  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  pauvent  Atre 
filmte  A  das  taux  da  rMuction  diffArants. 
Loraque  la  document  est  trop  grand  pour  §tre 
raproduit  an  un  seul  ciich*.  ii  eat  filmA  A  partir 
de  I'angle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
at  de  haut  en  baa.  an  prenant  Ie  nombre 
d'imagea  ntcaaaaira.  Lea  diagrammas  suivants 
iliustrent  la  mAthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

• 

• 

DISCOURSE 


PRONOUNCKD  AT  THE  REQUEST 


or 


THE  ESSEX  HISTORICAL  SOCIETY, 


ON  THE  19TH  OF  SEPTEMBER,  1S2S. 


IN  COMMEMORATIOH 


OF  THE  FIRST  SETTLEMENT  OF  SALEM, 


IN  THK 


STATE  OF  MASSACHUSETTS. 


BY 


JOSEPH  STORY. 


PUBLISHED  AT  THE  REqUEST  OF  THE  SOCIETY. 


,.      BOSTON: 

HILLIARD,  GRAY,  LITTLE,  AND  WILKINS. 

1828.     -      r  r;--' - 


qej^'    ^i''*- 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  to  wll 

I)ISTHU:T  fl.KRK'rt  OKfTCE. 

Be  it  rkmkmiieued,  thiit  on  the  twenty-sixth  day  of  Sopteiiilier,  A.  U. 
1828,  and  in  ihe  tifly-lhird  year  of  the  iiidepi-ndcnce  of  the  Lnit.'d  States  o( 
Anierira,  Ililliard,  (iiay,  Utile,  &  Wiikins,  of  said  di>titet.  have  deposited  in 
this  office  the  title  of  a  hook,  the  ri){ht  whereof  they  elaini  as  proprietors,  in  the 
words  following,  to  wit : — "  A  Discourse  pronounced  at  tlie  Reciuest  of  the 
Essex  Historical  Society,  on  the  18lh  of  Septemhcr,  1828,  in  Conimcmoralion 
of  the  first  Settlement  of  Salem,  in  the  Slate  of  MassarhuscUs.  Ky  Joseph 
Story." — In  conformity  to  the  act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled 
"  An  act  for  the  pncouragement  of  Icarnini;,  hy  securing  the  copies  of  map.s, 
charts,  and  liooks,  to  the  authors  and  proprietois  of  such  copies  during  the  times 
(herein  mentioned  :  "  and  also  to  an  act,  entitled  "  An  act  supplementary  to  an 
act,  entilleil  '  An  act  for  the  encourae;enient  of  leaminn,  hy  securing  the  copies 
of  maps,  charts,  and  hooks,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies  during 
(he  times  therein  menlioned,'  and  extending  the  lunciits  thereof  to  the  arts  of 
designing,  engraving,  and  etching  histoiical  and  other  prints." 

J  NO.  W.  DAVIS, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of  Alasaachusetta. 


CAMIIKIDGK  : 
HILI.IAKII,  MKTCAIF,  AND  COMPANY, 

Priiilcrt  to  the  L'nivtniUj, 


DISCOURSE. 


There  are  certain  epochs  in  the  history  of 
nations,  which  always  attract  to  themselves  a  last- 
ing interest.  They  constitute  steps  in  the  progress 
or  decline  of  empire,  at  which  we  involuntarily  pause 
to  look  back  upon  the  past,  or  to  spell  out  the  for- 
tunes of  the  future.  They  become  associated  with 
our  inmost  feelings  and  profoundest  reflections.  Our 
imaginations  embody  the  time,  the  place,  and  the 
circumstances.  We  drop  the  intermediate  distances 
of  space  and  years,  which  divide  us  from  them.  We 
breathe  the  very  air  and  spirit  of  the  age  itself.  We 
gather  up  the  fragments  of  broken  facts,  as  history 
or  tradition  has  scattered  them  around  us.  We 
arrange  them  with  a  fond  solicitude  ;  and  having 
dressed  them  out  in  all  the  pride  and  pomp  of  fair 
array,  our  hearts  kindle  at  the  contemplation ;  and 
we  exult  or  mourn,  glow  with  confidence,  or  bow 
with  humiliation,  as  they  pass  before  us,  and  we 
realize  their  connexion  with  ourselves,  the  glory 
of  our  country,  or  the  fate  of  the  world. 


Of  memorable  events,  few  awaken  a  more  lively 
curiosity  than  the  origin  of  nations.  Whence  we 
sprung,  at  what  period,  from  what  race,  by  what 
causes,  under  what  circumstances,  for  what  objects, 
are  inquiries  so  natural,  that  they  rise  almost  spon- 
taneously in  our  minds  ;  and  scarcely  less  so  in  the 
humblest,  than  in  the  most  exalted  of  society.  They 
are  intimately  connected  with  our  pride,  our  char- 
acter, our  hopes,  and  our  destin}.  He,  who  may 
look  back  upon  a  long  line  of  illustrious  ancestors, 
cannot  forget,  that  the  blood,  stirring  in  his  own 
veins,  is  drawn  from  a  common  source  ;  and  that  the 
light,  reflected  by  their  virtues,  casts  upon  his  own 
path  a  cheering,  even  though  it  may  be  a  distant, 
radiance.  And  he,  who  may  not  claim  kindred  with 
the  mighty  dead,  feels,  that  they  are  the  common 
inheritance  of  his  country,  and  that  he  has  a  right  to 
share  in  their  fame,  and  triumph  in  their  achievements. 

Nor  let  it  be  supposed,  that  this  strong  propen- 
sity of  our  nature  is  attributable  to  the  indulgence 
of  mere  personal  or  national  vanity.  It  has  a  higher 
and  better  origin.  It  is  closely  interwoven  w^ith  that 
reverence  and  affection,  with  which  we  regard  our 
parents,  and  the  patriarchs  of  our  own  times  ;  with 
that  gratitude,  with  which  we  follow  the  benefactors 
of  our  race  ;  with  that  piety,  which  reads  in  every 
event  the  superintendence  of  a  w  ise  and  benevolent 
Providence  ;  with  that  charity,  which  binds  up  our 
interests  in  those  of  mankind  at  large ;  with  that 
sympathy,  which  links  our  fate  with  that  of  all  past 
and  future  generations  ;  and  with  that  sense  of  duty, 
which  the  consciousness   of  trusts  of  unmeasured 


6 


extent  never  fails  to  elevate  and  strengthen.  Above 
all,  we  are  thus  enabled  to  extract  from  remote  events 
that  instruction,  which  the  vicissitudes  of  human  life 
should  press  home  to  our  own  business  and  bosoms. 
The  toils  and  misfortunes  incident  to  infant  settle- 
ments ;  the  slow  progress  even  of  successful  effort ; 
the  patience,  fortitude,  and  sagacity,  by  which  evils 
are  overcome  or  diminished  ;  the  fundamental  causes, 
which  quicken  or  retard  their  growth;  these  all 
furnish  lessons,  which  improve  the  wise,  correct  the 
rash,  and  alarm  the  improvident. 

Two  hundred  years  have  just  elapsed,  since  our 
forefathers  landed  on  these  shores  for  the  perma- 
nent plantation  of  New-England.  I  say  emphat- 
ically, for  the  permanent  plantation  of  New-England. 
There  had  been  before  that  period  various  adven- 
turers, who  from  curiosity,  or  necessity,  or  hope  of 
gain,  explored  the  coast ;  but  their  pui-poses  were 
transient,  or  their  stay  short.  There  had  been  here 
and  there  little  establishments  for  fishery,  or  trade, 
successively  taken  up  and  abandoned,  from  the  rieors 
of  the  climate,  the  unprofitableness  of  the  empiav- 
ment,  or  the  disappointments  naturally  following 
upon  such  novel  enterprises.  Few  persons  (com- 
paratively speaking)  had  turned  their  thoughts  to  this, 
as  a  land  favorable  for  the  cultivation  of  the  soil,  or 
the  arts  of  social  life.  It  promised  little  to  the 
European,  who  should  leave  his  native  country  with 
a  fancy  warm  with  descriptions  of  the  luxuriance 
of  this  western  world,  and  hoping  to  pass  the  residue 
of  his  hfe,  as  *  one  long  summer  day  of  indolence ' 
and  ease.     It  offered  no  mines  glittering  with  gold 


6 


und  silver  to  tempt  the  avarice  of  the  selfish,  or  to 
stimulate  the  hopes  of  the  ambitious.  It  presented 
an  irret^ular  and  rocky  front,  lashed  by  the  waves  of 
a  stormy  ocean,  and  frowning  with  dark  forests  and 
bleak  promontories.  Its  rough  and  stubborn  soil 
yielded  with  reluctance  to  the  labors  of  the  husband- 
man ;  and  the  severities  of  a  northern  winter  for 
almost  half  the  year  stripped  the  earth  of  its 
vegetation  by  its  bitter  blasts,  or  drifting  snows. 
It  required  stout  hands  and  stouter  hearts  to 
encounter  such  discouragements ;  to  subdue  the 
ruggedness  of  nature,  and  to  wait  the  slow  returns, 
which  perseverance  and  industry  alone  could  rea- 
sonably hope  to  obtain.  Men  must  have  strong 
motives  to  lead  them,  under  such  circumstances,  to 
such  a  choice.  It  was  not  an  enterprise,  which, 
being  conceived  in  a  moment  of  rashness,  might  by 
its  (juick  success  plead  its  own  justification.  It  had 
none  of  the  allurements  of  power,  or  the  indulgences 
of  pleasure,  or  the  oiferings  of  fame,  to  give  it  attrac- 
tions. Higher  motives,  and  deeper  thoughts,  such 
as  engross  the  passions  and  the  souls  of  men,  and 
sink  into  comparative  insignificance  the  comforts  of 
social  life,  are  alone  adeq  ate  to  produce  such  re- 
sults. One  might  well  say,  as  Tacitus  did  of  the 
Germany  of  his  own  times,*  *Qiis  porro,  praeter 
periculum  horridi  et  ignoti  maris,  Asia  aut  Africa 
aut  Italia  relic ta,  Germaniam  peteret,  informem 
terris,  asperam  co'lo,  tristem  cultu  aspectuque,  nisi 
si  patria  sit?  '     Who,  independently  of  the  perils  of  a 


*  Hutchinson,  in  his  History  (vol.  i.  p.  2)  cites  the  paasagc.      It  is  from 
Tacitus  de  Moribus  (JaiiuinUc,  c.  2. 


'  J 


terrific  and  unknown  sea,  would  leave  the  soft  cli- 
mates of  Asia,  Africa,  or  Europe,  and  fix  his  abode 
in  a  land  rough  and  uncultivated,  with  an  inclement 
sky  and  a  dreary  aspect,  unless  indeed  it  were  his 
mother  country! 

It  should  excite  no  surprise,  therefore,  that  a 
century  had  passed  away  after  the  Cabots  discov- 
ered the  southern  part  of  this  continent,  and  yet  the 
Aborigines  remained  there  in  undisturbed  security. 
Even  the  neighbouring  colony  of  Flyniouth,  where  the 
renowned  Pilgrims,  under  Carver,  Bradford,  and 
Winslow,  had  already  raised  the  standard  of  liberty 
and  the  cross,  was  encountering  the  severest  trials, 
and  struggling  almost  for  existence.  There  were 
not  a  few  friends,  who  began  to  entertain  fears, 
that  unless  succours  came  in  from  other  ([uarters,  this 
noble  band  of  worthies,  worn  down  by  hardships  and 
discouragements,  might  be  destined,  at  no  distant 
period,  to  follow  the  fate  of  other  adventurers,  or  be 
reduced  to  a  narrow  factory.*  Their  original 
scheme  of  colonization  involved  in  it  some  fatal 
defects,  which  were  afterwards  corrected  by  their 
own  wisdom  and  experience.  The  notion  of  a  com- 
munity of  property  and  protits  was  utterly  incompat- 
ible with  the  growth  of  a  state.  It  cut  off  at  a  blow 
every  excitement  to  individual  enterprise  ;  and  by 
its  unequal  distribution  of  burtliens  and  benefits 
sowed  far  and  wide  the  elements  of  discord.  The 
followers  of  the  excellent  Robinson  might,  indeed, 
comfort  themselves  with  the  present  possession  of 


•  2  Huttli.  Hist.  168,  -J6f>,  470,   172,  476 ;  Prince's  Annals,  268 ;    Robert- 
sou's  Aiucrica,  book  10;  3  Hist.  Collect.  417. 


8 


a  rofugc  from  religious  oppression  ;  but  the  possibil- 
ity of  a  dissolution  of  Jheir  connexion  at  any  period, 
however  r(3n»otc,  nuist,  whcnuvi-r  it  was  suggested, 
have  filled  their  hearts  with  sorrow,  and,  even  when 
least  indulged,  sometimes  have  disturbed  their  peace. 
Their  own  language  in  defence  of  their  settlement  at 
Hartford  affords  a  striking  picture  of  their  situation. 

*  They  lived  upon  a  barren  place,  where  they  were 
by  necessity  cast ;  and  neither  they,  nor  theirs  could 
long  continue  upon  the  same  ;  and  why  should  they 
be  deprived  of  that,  which  they  had  provided,  and 
intended  to  remove  to,  as  soon  as  they  were  able?  * 
At  the  distance  of  ten  years  from  their  hrst  landing, 
the  colony  could  scarcely  number  three  hundred 
inhabitants  ;  f  a  proof,  at  once,  of  the  magnitude  of 
their  difliculties,  and  of  the  heroic  zeal  and  perse- 
verance, which  met  them  without  shrinking  or 
dismay. 

By  the  blessing  of  God,  however,  our  Fathers 
also  came  hither,  and,  in  connexion  with  the  good 

*  Old  Colony,*  fixed  henceforth,  and,  as  we  fondly 
trust,  for  ever,  the  settlement  and  destiny  of  New- 
England.  And  we  arc  met,  on  the  very  spot  first 
trodden  by  their  footsteps,  on  the  very  day  first  wel- 
coming their  arrival,  to  celebrate  this  memorable 
event.  It  is  fit,  that  we  should  so  do.  What  occa- 
sion could  occur  more  worthy  of  our  homage? 
What  recollections  could  rise  up,  better  adapted  to 
aw^aken  our  gratitude,  cheer  our  hearts,  and  elevate 


•  2  Hutch.  Hist.  469,  &c. 

t  Robortson's  America,  book  x.  |»    267  ;  Chalmers's  Annals,  p.  97.     See  also 
the  Conimissioners'  Report  in  1665  (3  Hutch.  Collect.  417.) 


our  thoughts  1  Who  is  he  that  can  suncy  this  goodly 
land,  and  not  feel  a  present  sense  of  its  various 
blessings  ?  Let  liim  cast  his  eyes  over  our  moun- 
tains, or  our  vallies,  our  deep  forests,  or  our  culti- 
vated plains.  Let  him  visit  our  villages,  and  hamlets, 
and  towns,  thickening  on  every  side,  and  listen  to 
the  sounds  of  busy,  contented,  thrifty  industry.  Let 
him  view  the  green  meadows,  and  the  waving  fields, 
and  the  rich  orchards,  rising  under  his  eyes  in  alter- 
nate order,  yielding  their  products  in  profusion,  and 
quickened  into  fertility  by  the  labors  of  man.  Let 
him  hold  communion  with  the  inhabitants  of  these 
peaceful  abodes,  with  the  mountaineers,  and  peas- 
ants, and  yeomen,  the  lords  of  the  soil,  the  reapers 
of  their  own  harvests,  who  look  proudly  down  upon 
their  own  inheritance.  Let  him  learn  from  them 
the  resolute  spirit,  the  manly  virtues,  the  intelligence 
and  piety,  which  pervade  New-England.  Let  him 
glance  at  the  neighbouring  metropolis  ;  its  splendid 
spires  glittering  in  the  sun  ;  its  noble  hospitals'  and 
public  charities  ;  its  crowded  and  well-built  streets  ; 
its  beautiful  harbour,  floating  on  its  bosom  the  com- 
merce of  the  world,  and  reflecting  on  its  surface 
islands,  and  islets,  and  shores  of  ever  varying  mag- 
nificence; its  amphitheatre  of  hills,  whose  gentle 
slopes  whiten  with  neat  mansions,  or  soften  into 
shade,  under  the  joint  ministry  of  nature  and  art ; 
its  lofty  halls,  where  eloquence  has  burst  forth  in 
strains  of  patriotism,  which  have  made  captive  the 
souls  of  thousands ;  its  visible  industry,  and  enter- 
prise, and  public  spirit,  gathering  into  the  lap  of  a 
common  mother  the  products  of  all  climates,  and 

2 


10 


i  . 


spreading  out  a  generous  hospitality.  Let  him  catch 
in  the  distant  reach  the  wails  of  our  venerable 
University,  cemented  by  the  solid  strength  of  cen- 
turies, where  learning  and  religion  obtained  their 
early  glory,  and  will,  we  trust,  receive  their  latest 
praise  ; — let  [him,  I  say,  contemplate  these  scenes, 
and  survey  this  goodly  heritage,  and  who  is  he,  even 
though  a  stranger  to  us  and  ours,  whose  voice  shall 
not  eagerly  ask  our  lineage,  our  ancestry,  our  age  1 
Who  is  he,  that  here  inhales  his  natal  air,  and  embraces 
his  mother  earth,  and  does  not  rejoice,  that  he  was 
born  for  this  day,  and  is  privileged  to  pour  out  his 
thanks,  and  offer  up  his  prayers  at  the  home  of  his 
forefathers  ? 

To  us,  indeed,  who  own  the  local  genius,  and 
feel  the  inspirations  of  the  place,  the  day  may  well 
be  presumed  to  be  crowded  with  thick-coming  fan- 
cies and  joyance.  We  may  not  turn  our  eyes  on 
any  side  without  meeting  objects  to  revive  the  im- 
ages of  the  primitive  times.  We  can  still  realize 
the  fidelity  of  the  description  of  the  voyager  of  1629, 
who  said,  *  We  passed  the  curious  and  difficult  en- 
trance into  the  large,  spacious  harbour  of  Naimkeake  ; 
and  as  we  passed  along,  it  was  wonderful  to  behold 
so  many  islands  replenished  with  thick  wood,  and 
high  trees,  and  many  fair  green  pastures.*  The 
woods  have  disappeared ;  but  the  islands  and  the 
fair  green  pastures  remain  with  more  than  native 
beauty  ;  and  the  rivers  still  meander  in  their  early 
channel  This  *  city  of  peace,*  so  called  by  our 
fathers,  as  significant  of  their  enjoyment  of  civil  and 
religious  freedom,  still  boasts  its  ancient  name  ;  still 


n 


justifies  the  original  allusion  to  the  scriptures,  *  In 
Salem  also  is  GotPs  tabernacle,  and  his  dwelling- 
place  in  Zion.**  The  thin  and  scattered  settlements 
can  no  longer  be  traced.  But  in  their  stead  are 
found  spacious  streets,  and  neat  dwellings,  and  lively 
schools,  and  numerous  churches,  and  busy  marts, 
and  all  the  fair  accompaniments  of  opulence  and 
knowledge,  simplicity  of  life  and  manners,  unobtru- 
sive refinement,  and  social  kindness.  Yet  in  the 
midst  of  these  blessed  changes,  we  can  point  out 
the  very  spot,  where  the  first  flock  was  gathered, 
and  the  first  church  consecrated  to  the  service  of  the 
living  God ;  where  the  meet;  and  learned  Higgin- 
son  (alas,  how  soon  to  perish  !)  first  raised  his  voice 
in  prayer,  and  with  trembling  lips,  and  pale  cheeks, 
where  sorrow  and  sickness  had  worn  many  an  early 
furrow,  discoursed  most  eloquently  of  life,  and 
death,  and  immortality,  the  triumphs  of  faith,  and 
the  rewards  of  obedience.  Yes,  it  is  still  devoted 
to  the  same  holy  purpose.  There,  the  voice  of 
praise,  and  thanksgiving,  and  prayer  still  ascends 
from  pious  hearts ;  there,  the  doctrines  of  salvation 
are  still  preached  with  enlightened  zeal  and  charity ; 
there,  the  humble,  the  contrite,  and  the  pure  still 
assemble  in  sweet  communion,  and  worship  God  in 
spirit  and  in  truth. f  The  sepulchres  of  our  fore- 
fathers are  also  among  us.  We  can  trace  them 
through  all  their  various  labors  to  their  last  appointed 
home ;   *  sedes  ubi  fata  quietas  ostendunt.'     Time 


*  1  Historical  Collections,  117;  Psalm  Ixxvi. 

t  Sec  the  excellent  dedication  sermon  of  the  Rev.  Mr  Upham,  one  of  ths 
Pastors  of  this  church,  in  November,  1826.     , 


12 


has  not  yet  levelled  the  incumbent  sod,  nor  the  moss 
overgrown  the  frail  memorials  erected  to  their 
worth.  But  their  noblest  monument  is  around  us, 
and  before  us.  Their  deeds  speak  their  eulogy  in 
a  manner,  which  it  requires  no  aid  of  language  to 
heighten.  They  live  in  their  works,  not  indeed  in 
the  perishable  structures  of  human  skill,  in  marble 
domes  or  triumphal  arches,  in  temples  or  in  palaces, 
the  wonders  of  art ;  but  in  the  enduring  institutions, 
which  they  created,  in  the  principles,  which  they 
taught,  and  by  which  they  sought  to  live,  and  for  which 
they  were  ready  to  die.  On  these  they  laid  the 
solid  foundations  of  our  strength  and  glory  ;  and  on 
these,  if  on  any  thing  human,  may  be  written  the 
words  of  immortality.  Our  graveyards  offer  no 
better  epitaph  for  them,  than  that.  Here  lie  the 
Founders  of  New-England ;  and  brief  though  it  be, 
and  of  simple  phrase,  it  has  a  pregnant  meaning,  the 
extent  of  which  no  human  mind  has  yet  grasped.  It 
can  be  unfolded  only  with  the  destiny  of  our  latest 
posterity. 

May  I  venture  on  some  allusions  not  unbecoming 
this  occasion,  and  yet  of  a  nature  somewhat  personal, 
though  not,  I  trust,  obtrusive.  I  speak  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  descendants  of  these  men.  Their  names 
sound  with  familiar  welcome  in  our  streets,  and 
greet  us  on  every  iJide,  as  we  pass  along.  They 
seem  to  live  again  in  their  offspring.  Their  images 
grace  our  processions,  and  throng  our  churches,  and 
enliven  our  festivals.  We  feel  almost  as  in  their 
conscious  presence,  and  listen  to  the  voices  of  other 
days.     When  in  the   enthusiasm  of  poetry  we  are 


13 


asked,  *  And  the  pii;  -lis,  where  are  they  ?  *  Where 
are  Winthrop,  and  Endicott,  and  Higginson,  and  Dud- 
ley, and  Saltonstall,  and  Bradstreet,  and  Pickering, 
and  Sprague,  and  Pynchon,  and  Hathorne,  and  Co- 
nant,  and  Woodbury,  and  Palfrey,  and  Balch,  and  the 
other  worthies  ?  We  are  ready  to  exclaim, — They 
are  here.  This  is  their  home.  These  are  their 
children. 

There  is  yet  among  us  One,  who  brings  their 
revered  forms  before  us  with  peculiar  dignity,  and 
is  at  once  the  representative  of  their  age  and  our 
own.  Generation  after  generation  has  passed  away, 
and  yet  he  survives,  the  model,  and  the  monument 
of  a  century.  His  early  youth  almost  clasped  the 
knees  of  the  pilgrims.  He  was  familiar  with  their 
sons,  and  listened  to  their  story  from  the  lips  of  those, 
who  painted  with  the  vividness  of  contemporaries, 
and  with  the  feelings  of  Puritans.  Standing  upon 
the  very  verge  of  the  first  century,  he  seems  the 
living  herald  of  the  first  settlers,  breathing  into  our 
souls  their  very  words  and  sentiments,  as  one,  who 
speaks  not  for  the  dead,  but  for  those,  who  yet  so- 
journ on  the  earth.  Time  in  his  favor  has  relaxed 
his  wonted  course,  and  touched  even  the  faded 
graces  of  the  past  with  a  kind  and  mellowing  charm. 
If  one  were  to  task  his  imagination  to  portray  a 
patriarch  of  primitive  simplicity,  warmed  with  the 
refinements  of  these  latter  days,  he  could  scarcely 
clothe  the  being  of  his  own  creation  with  other 
qualities  than  we  have  seen.  He  could  not  fail  to 
point  out  to  us  a  form,  venerable  for  wisdom,  learning, 
and  modesty,  in  which  the  spirit  of  philosophy  and 


14 


H 


i 


benevolence  was  sustained  by  liieekness  and  piety ; 
in  which  blamelessness  of  life,  cheerfulness  of  heart, 
and  gratitude  for  past  blessings,  imparted  solid  lustre 
to  a  faith,  and  hope,  and  joy,  resting  upon  immor- 
tality. Well  may  it  be  asked  of  such  a  being  in  the 
tender  language  of  Scripture,  *  And  the  old  man,  of 
whom  ye  spake,  is  he  yet  alive?*  Your  own  hearts 
have  already  answered  the  question.  We  have  seen 
this  centennial  patriarch ;  and  we  count  it  among 
the  triumphs  of  this  day,  that  he  yet  lives,  the  delight 
of  his  friends,  the  crown  of  his  profession,  and  the 
ornament  of  human  nature. 

Such  are  some  of  the  circumstances  and  associa- 
tions, belonging  to  the  festival,  which  has  assembled 
us  together.  I  am  but  too  sensible,  how  utterly 
inadequate  my  own  powers  are  to  meet  the  exigen- 
cies of  such  a  day.  I  have  not  been  unconscious 
of  the  difficulties  of  the  task ;  and  I  now  stand  here 
with  sincere  self-distrust,  having  yielded  to  a  sense 
of  duty,  what  I  should  gladly  have  declined,  if  left 
to  my  own  choice.  After  all,  however,  the  occasion 
carries  along  with  it  its  own  means  of  gratification, 
in  the  thoughts  of  home,  and  kindred,  and  ancestry, 
and  country,  which  rise  in  every  heart,  and  hang  on 
every  tongue.  If  I  falter  in  the  course,  I  may  well 
share  this  consolation,  since  a  common  sympathy 
must  disarm  the  severity  of  criticism. 

Many  topics,  appropriate  to  this  celebration,  have 
already  been  discussed  by  others  in  a  manner,  which 
does  not  require,  even  if  it  should  admit  of  farther 
illustration.  The  genius  of  New  England  has  em- 
ployed some  of  its  best  efforts  to  add  dignity  to 


15 


the  scene.  History  and  tradition  have  been  laid 
under  contribution  to  adorn  the  narrative  ;  and  phi- 
losophy itself,  while  studying  the  events,  has  unfold- 
ed speculations,  as  profound  and  engrossing,  as  any, 
which  can  engage  the  human  mind.  I  profess  not 
the  rashness  to  follow  in  the  high  course  thus  marked 
out;  content  to  walk  in  the  ancient  paths,  and  to 
gather,  as  I  may,  the  gleanings  of  a  harvest,  which 
has  so  amply  rewarded  the  labors  of  my  predeces- 
sors. 

My  object  is  to  furnish  you  with  a  brief  sketch 
of  the  origin  of  the  colony ;  of  the  motives,  which 
led  to  the  enterprise ;  of  the  characters  of  the  men, 
who  conducted  it ;  of  the  principles,  upon  which  it 
was  established ;  and  of  the  grand  results,  which  it 
has  hitherto  developed.  I  shall  also  adventure  upon 
some  topics,  where  the  conduct  of  our  ancestors 
has  been  severely  put  to  question ;  and  without  at- 
tempting to  disguise  their  mistakes,  I  trust,  that 
something  may  be  said  to  rescue  their  memories 
from  unmerited  reproaches. 

If  the  origin  of  nations  be,  as  it  confessedly  is,  a 
source  of  deep  interest,  there  are  circumstances 
connected  with  the  first  settlement  of  New- England 
peculiarly  to  gratify  a  national  pride.  We  do  not 
trace  ourselves  back  to  times  of  traditionary  dark- 
ness, where  truth  and  fiction  are  blended  at  every 
step,  and  what  remains,  after  the  closest  investiga- 
tion, is  but  conjecture,  or  shadowy  fact.  We  do  not 
rely  upon  the  arts  of  the  poet  to  give  dignity  to  the 
narrative,  and  invest  it  with  the  colorings  of  his 
imagination.     Greece   might  delight  to  trace  her 


16 


origin  up  to  the  high  renown  and  antiquity  of 
Egypt ;  and  Rome  soothe  herself  with  her  rise  from 
the  smouldering  ruins  of  Troy.  We  have  no  legends, 
which  genius  may  fashion  into  its  own  forms,  and 
crowd  with  imaginary  personages.  Such  as  it  is, 
our  history  lies  far  within  the  reach  of  the  authentic 
annals  of  mankind.  It  has  been  written  by  contem- 
poraries with  a  simplicity,  which  admits  of  no  em- 
bellishment, and  a  fidelity,  which  invites  scrutiny. 
The  records  are  before  us,  sketched  by  the  first 
adventurers ;  and  there  we  may  learn  all  their  wan- 
derings and  cares,  and  sufferings  and  hopes,  their 
secret  thoughts  and  their  absorbing  modves.  We 
can  ask  of  the  world  no  credit  for  modern  state- 
ments of  old  events.  We  can  conceal  nothing ;  and 
our  true  glory  is,  that  there  is  nothing,  which  we 
wish  to  conceal.  And  yet,  I  think,  whoever  shall 
read  these  annals  in  their  minute  details ;  whoever 
shall  bring  home  to  his  thoughts  the  causes  and 
consequences  of  these  events  ;  whoever  shall  watch 
the  struggles  of  conscience  against  the  seductions 
of  affection,  and  the  pressure  of  dangers ;  will  feel 
his  soul  touched  with  a  moral  sublimity,  which 
poetry  itself  could  not  surpass.  So  mighty  is  truth  ; 
so  irresistible  is  the  voice  of  nature. 

Take  but  a  single  passage  in  their  lives,  the  open- 
ing scene  of  that  drama,  on  which  we  seem  but  just 
to  have  entered.  Go  back,  and  meet  the  first  de- 
tachment, the  litde  band,  which,  under  the  guidance 
of  the  worthy,  intelligent,  and  intrepid  Endicott, 
landed  on  the  neighbouring  shore.  It  was  then,  as 
it  is  now,  the  early  advance  of  autumn.     What  can 


17 


be  more  beautiful  or  more  attractive,  than  this  season 
in  New-England?  The  sultry  heat  of  summer  has  pass- 
ed away ;  and  a  delicious  coolness  at  evening  succeeds 
the  genial  warmth  of  the  day.    The  labors  of  the  hus- 
bandman approach  their  natural  termination ;  and  he 
gladdens  with  the  near  prospect  of  his  promised  re- 
ward.   The  earth  swells  with  the  increase  of  vegeta- 
tion.   The  fields  wave  with  their  yellow  and  luxuriant 
harvests.     The  trees  put  forth  their  darkest  foliage, 
half  shading  and  half  revealing  their  ripened  fruits, 
to  tempt  the  appetite  of  man,  and  proclaim  the  good- 
ness of  his  Creator.    Even  in  scenes  of  another 
sort,  where  nature  reigns  alone  in  her  own  majesty, 
there  is  much  to  awaken  religious  enthusiasm.    As 
yet  the  forests  stand  clothed  in  their  dress  of  unde- 
cayed  magnificence.    The  winds,  that  rustle  through 
their  tops,  scarcely  disturb  the  silence  of  the  shades 
below.     The  mountains  and  the  vallies  glow  in  warm 
green,  or  lively  russet.     The  rivulets  flow  on  with  a 
noiseless  current,  reflecting  back  the  images  of  many 
a  glossy  insect,  that  dips  his  wings  in  their  cooling 
waters.     The  mornings  and  evenings  are  still  vocal 
with  the  notes  of  a  thousand  warblers,  who  plume 
their  wings  for  a  later  flight.    Above  all,  the  clear 
blue  sky,  the  long  and  sunny  calms,  the  scarcely 
whispering  breezes,  the  brilliant  sunsets,  lit  up  with 
all  the  wondrous  magnificence  of  light  and  shade 
and  color,  and  slowly  settling  down  into  a  pure  and 
transparent  twilight ; — These,    these  are   days   and 
scenes,  which  even  the  cold  cannot  behold  without 
emotion ;   but  on  which  the  meditative  and  pious 
gaze  with  profound  admiration  ;  for  they  breathe  of 
holier  and  happier  regions  beyond  the  grave. 

3 


18 


But  lovely  as  is  tliis  autumn,  so  finely  characteriz- 
ed as  the  Indian  Summer  of  New-England,  and  so 
favorably  contrasting  itself  with  the  chills  and  mois- 
ture of  the  British  Isles,  let  us  not  imagine,  that  it 
appeared  to  these  Pilgrims,  as  it  does  to  us,  clothed 
in  smiles.  Their  first  steps  on  this  continent  were 
doubtless  with  that  buoyancy  of  spirit,  which  relief 
from  the  tcdiousness  and  dangers  of  a  sea  voyage 
naturally  excites.  But,  think  you,  that  their  first 
hasty  glances  around  them  did  not  bring  some  anxie- 
ties for  the  future,  and  some  regrets  for  the  past  ? 
They  were  in  the  midst  of  a  wilderness,  untrodden 
by  civilized  man.  The  native  forests  spread  around 
them,  with  only  here  and  there  a  detached  glade, 
which  the  Indian  tomahawk  had  levelled,  or  the 
fisherman  cleared  for  his  temporary  hut.  There  were 
no  houses  inviting  to  repose ;  no  fields  ripening  with 
corn ;  no  cheerful  hearths ;  no  welcoming  friends  ; 
no  common  altars.  The  heavens,  indeed,  shone  fair 
over  their  heads ;  and  the  earth  beneath  was  rich  in 
its  beauties.  But  where  was  their  home?  Whera 
were  those  comforts  and  endearments,  which  that 
little  word  crowds  into  our  hearts  in  the  midst  of  the 
keenest  sufferings  ?  Where  were  the  objects,  to 
which  they  might  cling  to  relieve  their  thoughts  from 
the  sense  of  present  desolation?  If  there  were 
some,  who  could  say  with  an  exile  of  the  succeeding 
year,  *  We  rested  that  night  with  glad  and  thankful 
hearts,  that  God  had  put  an  end  to  our  long  and 
tedious  journey  through  the  greatest  sea  in  the 
world  ;'*  there  were  many,  whose  pillows  were  wet 


•  3  Hutch.  Collect.  44. 


19 

with  bitter,  though  not  repentant,  tears.  Many  a 
father  offered  his  evenin«5  prayer  with  trembling  ac- 
cents;  many  a  mother  clasped  her  children  to  her 
bosom  in  speechless  figony.  The  morrow  came  ; 
but  it  brought  no  abatement  of  anxiety.  It  was 
rather  a  renewal  of  cares,  of  sad  reminiscences,  of 
fearful  forebodings. 

This  is  no  idle  picture  of  the  fancy,  tricked  out 
for  effect,  to  move  our  sympathies,  or  blind  us  to  the 
real  facts.  How  could  their  situation  be  otherwise  ? 
They  were  not  fugitives  from  justice,  seeking  to  bury 
themselves  and  their  crimes  in  some  remote  corner 
of  the  eartii.  They  were  not  prodigals,  endeavouring 
to  retrieve  their  wrecked  fortunes  in  distant  adven- 
tures. They  were  not  idle  and  luxurious  wanderers, 
weary  of  society,  and  panting  for  unexplored  novel- 
ties. They  had  left  a  country  full  of  the  refinements 
of  social  life,  and  dear  to  them  by  every  human  tie. 
There  were  the  tombs  of  their  ancestors ;  there  the 
abodes  of  their  friends  ;  of  mothers,  who  kissed  their 
pale  cheeks  on  the  seashore ;  of  sisters,  who  wrung 
their  hands  in  sharp  distress ;  of  children,  who  dropped 
upon  their  knees,  and  asked  a  blessing  at  parting, 
ay,  at  parting  for  ever.  There  was  the  last,  linger- 
ing embrace ;  there  the  last  sight  of  the  white  cUffs 
of  England,  which  had  faded  from  their  straining 
gaze,  for  time,  and  for  eternity.  There  for  the  last 
time  were  uttered  from  their  broken  voices,  *  Fare- 
well, dear  England  ;  farewell,  the  church  of  God  in 
England  ;  farewell,  all  Christian  friends  there.'  * 


*  Eliot's  Dictionary,  Art.  Higginion,  252. 


20 


They  were  now  landed  on  other  shores.  The 
excitements  of  the  voyage  were  gone.  Three  thou- 
sand miles  of  ocean  rolled  between  them  and  the 
country  they  had  left ;  and  every  illusion  of  hope 
had  vanished  before  the  sober  realities  of  a  wilder- 
ness.   They  had  now  full  leisure  for  reflection, 

....    *  while  Imsy,  meddling  memory, 
In  barbarous  succession  mustered  up 
The  past  endearments  of  tlieir  softer  hours, 
Tenacious  of  its  theme.' 

There  is  nothing  so  depressing  in  exile,  as  thai 
sickness  of  the  heart,  which  comes  over  us  with  the 
thorights  of  a  lost,  distant  home.  There  is  nothing, 
which  softens  the  harsh  features  of  nature,  like  the 
feeling,  that  this  is  our  country.  The  exiles  of  New- 
England  saw  not  before  them  either  a  home,  or  a 
country.     Both  were  to  be  created. 

If  the  past  could  bring  few  consolations,  the  fu- 
ture was  not  without  its  embarrassments.  The 
season  was  passed,  in  which  any  addition  could  be 
made  to  their  scanty  stock  of  provisions  from  the 
produce  of  the  soil.  No  succours  could  reach  them 
until  the  ensuing  spring ;  and  even  then,  they  were 
subject  to  many  contingencies.  The  winter  must 
soon  approach  with  its  bleak  winds,  and  desolating 
storms.  The  wild  beasts  were  in  the  woods  ;  and 
the  scarcely  less  savage  Indians  lurked  in  the  rav- 
ines, or  accosted  them  with  questionable  friendship. 
Trees  were  to  be  felled,  and  houses  built,  and  forti- 
fications arranged,  as  well  for  shelter  as  for  safety ; 
and  brief  was  the  space,  and  feeble  the  means  to 
accomplish  these  necessary  defences.   Beyond  these 


21 


were  the  unknown  dangers  of  change  of  climate, 
and  new  habits  of  life,  and  scanty  food  ;  of  the  pes- 
tilence, that  walkcth  in  darkness,  and  the  famine, 
that  wasteth  at  noonday.  These  were  discourage- 
ments, which  might  well  appal  the  timid,  and  subdue 
the  rash.  It  is  not,  then,  too  much  to  attirm  again, 
that  it  required  stout  hands  and  stouter  hearts  to 
overcome  such  diiliculties.     But 

'  If  misfortuno  comes,  sho  bringB  along 
The  bravest  virtuea.* 

The  men,  who  landed  here,  were  no  ordinary  men ; 
the  motive  for  their  emigration  was  no  ordinary 
motive  ;  and  the  glory  of  their  achievement  has  few 
parallels  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Their  perse- 
verance in  the  midst  of  hardships,  their  firmness  in 
the  midst  of  dangers,  their  patience  in  the  midst  of 
sufferings,  their  courage  in  the  midst  of  disasters, 
their  unconquerable  spirit,  their  unbending  adhe- 
rence to  their  principles,  their  steady  resistance  of 
all  encroachments,  surprise  us  even  more  than  the 
wisdom  of  their  plans,  and  the  success  of  their 
operations. 

If  we  trace  on  the  colony  during  the  two  or  three 
next  succeeding  years,  in  which  it  received  an  ac- 
cession of  almost  two  thousand  persons,  we  shall  find 
abundant  reason  to  distrust  those  early  descriptions,  of 
which  the  just  complaint  was,  that  *  honest  men,  out 
of  a  desire  to  druw  over  others  to  them,  wrote  some- 
what hyperbolically  of  many  things  here,*  and  *  by 
their  too  large  commendations  of  the  country,  and 
the  commodities  thereof,  so  strongly  invited  others 


'21 


to  go  on;**  and  to  express  our  astonishment,  that 
the  enterprise  was  not  instantly  abandoned.  Many 
of  those,  who  accompanied  Endicott,  died  in  the 
ensuing  winter  by  disease  from  exposure,  and  want 
of  food,  and  suitable  medical  assistance.  They  were 
reinforced  in  the  next  summer  by  new  colonists 
with  fresh  supplies ;  and  again  in  the  succeeding 
year,  when  the  Corporation  itself  was  also  removed 
under  the  auspices  of  Winthrop,  Dudley,  Johnson, 
Saltonstall,  and  others.  What  was  then  the  state  of 
the  Colony  ?  We  are  told  by  a  friend  and  eye-wit- 
ness t — *  VVe  found  the  Colony,'  says  he,  *  in  a  sad 
and  unexpected  condition;  al)ove  eighty  of  them' 
(that  is,  more  than  one  quarter  of  the  whole  number) 
*  being  dead  the  winter  before  ;  and  many  of  those 
alive  weak  and  sick  ;  all  the  corn  and  bread  amongst 
them  all  hardly  suHlcient  to  feed  them  a  fortnight.' 
He  adds,  *  If  any  come  hither  to  plant  for  worldly 
ends,  that  can  live  well  at  home,  he  commits  an 
error,  of  which  he  will  soon  repent  him.' — *  In  a 
word,  we  have  little  to  be  envied ;  but  endure  much 
to  be  pitied  in  the  sickness  and  mortality  of  our 
people.'  And  then  in  the  conclusion  of  this  memo- 
rable letter  he  breaks  out  with  the  unconquerable 
spirit  of  Puritanism — *  We  are  left  a  people  poor, 
and  contemptible  ;  yet  such  as  trust  in  God ;  and 
are  contented  with  our  own  condiilon,  being  well 
assured,  ^hat  he  will  not  fail  us,  nor  forsake  us.' 
Men,  who  were  thus  prepared  to  encounter  such 
distresses,   were   prepared   for   every   thing.      The 


•  Governor  Dudley's  Tottf     i  Hi'  ;   Coll.  8(;   38,  43. 
t  Id.     n)id.  p.  38. 


23 


stake  had  no  terron  for  them  ;  and  earth  had  no  re- 
wan'  which  couUl  Ibr  a  moinrnt  withdraw  them 
from  the  dictates  of  conscirru  .    ind  (lui\ . 

This  year  was,  indeed,  till  mor  'lisastrous  tl\an 
the  preceding,  and  robhcul  tlicm  of  some  )f  their 
brightest  ornaments.  Before  l)e(  ember  the  ^avo 
had  closed  upon  two  hundred  of  their  number;  and 
amona;  these  were  some  of  the  most  accomplished 
of  ho\h  f^'xes.  It  is  impossible,  even  at  this  distance 
of  lime,  to  contemplate  their  character  and  fate, 
wiiliuut  the  deepest  sympathy.  Hi^ijf^inson,  the  rev- 
erend and  beloved  teacher  of  the  fust  Hock,  fell 
an  early  victim,  in  the  forty-third  year  of  his  age, 
and  the  first  of  his  ministry.  Let  me  pause  for  a 
moment  to  pay  a  passing  tribute  to  his  worth.  He 
received  his  education  at  Emanuel  College  in  Cam- 
bridge, where  he  was  so  much  distinguished  by  his 
talents,  acquirements,  and  scholarship,  that  he  gain- 
ed an  early  introduction  into  a  benefice  of  the  church. 
The  arguments  of  Hildersham  and  Hooker,  however, 
soon  infused  scruples  into  his  mind  respecting  the 
doctrines  and  discipline  of  the  establishment,  and 
he  was  ejected  for  nonconformity.  He  then  taught 
a  few  pupils  for  the  maintenance  of  his  family  ;  and 
having  received  an  invitation  to  remove  to  New- 
England,  in  the  hope  of  restoring  his  health,  and 
animated  by  the  glorious  prospect  of  a  free  enjoy- 
ment (as  he  expresses  it)  *  of  the  true  religion  and 
holy  ordinances  of  Almighty  God,*  he  embarked  with 
his  family  in  the  Talbot  in  1629.  In  the  course  of 
the  voyage  he  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  one  of  his 
daughters,  of  whose  death  he  gives  us  an  account  in 


24 


his  journal,  drawn  up  with  a  simplicity  beautifully 
illustrative  of  his  own  character.  *  And  so,'  says 
he,  *  it  was  God's  will  the  child  died  about  five 
o'clock  at  night,  being  the  first  in  our  ship,  that  was 
buried  in  the  bowels  of  the  great  Atlantic  sea; 
which,  as  it  was  a  great  grief  to  us,  her  parents,  and 
a  terror  to  all  the  rest,  as  being  the  beginning  of  a 
contagious  disease  and  mortality,  so  in  the  same 
judgment  it  pleased  God  to  remember  mercy  in  the 
child,  in  forcing  it  from  a  world  of  misery,  wherein 
she  had  lived  all  her  days.*  And,  after  an  allusion  to 
her  personal  infirmities,  he  concludes,  *  So  that  in 
respect  of  her  we  had  cause  to  take  her  death  as  a 
blessing  from  the  Lord  to  shorten  her  misery.'* 
Alas  !  he  was  destined  too  soon  to  follow  her.  Not 
many  months  elapsed  before  a  consumption  settled 
on  his  cheeks,  and  by  its  hectic  flushes  betrayed  an 
irretrievable  decline.  He  died  with  the  composure, 
resignation,  and  christian  confidence  of  a  saint, 
leaving  behind  him  a  character,  in  which  learning, 
benignity  of  manners,  purity  of  life,  fervent  piety, 
and  unaffected  charity,  were  blended  with  most  at- 
tractive grace ;  and  his  name  is  enrolled  among  the 
earliest  and  truest  benefactors  of  New-England. 

A  death  scarcely  less  regretted,  and  which  follow- 
ed with  a  fearful  rapidity,  w  as  that  of  a  lady  of  noble 
birth,  elegant  accomplishments,  and  exemplary  vir- 
tues. I  speak  of  the  Lady  Arabella  Johnson,f  a 
daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Lincoln,  who  accompanied 

•  3  Hutch.  Collect.  32,  36. 

t  Her  name  is  commonly  spelt  in  the  rccortls  of  that  day,  possibly  as  an 
ftbbreviation,  *  Arbella.' 


25 


her  husband  in  the  embarkation  under  Winthrop,  and 
in  honor  of  whom,  the  admiral  ship  on  that  occasion 
was  called  by  her  name.  She  died  in  a  very  short 
time  after  her  arrival ;  and  lies  buried  near  the 
neighbouring  shore.  No  stone  or  other  memorial 
indicates  the  exact  place ;  but  tradition  has  j)reserv- 
ed  it  with  a  holy  reverence.  The  remembrance  of 
her  excellence  is  yet  fresh  in  all  our  thoughts ;  and 
many  a  heart  still  kindles  with  admiration  of  her  vir- 
tues ;  and  many  a  bosom  heaves  with  sighs  at  her 
untimely  end.  What,  indeed,  could  be  more  touch- 
ing than  the  fate  of  such  a  woman  ?  What  example 
more  striking  than  hers,  of  uncompromising  affection 
and  piety  ?  Born  in  the  lap  of  ease,  and  surrounded 
by  affluence  ;  with  every  prospect  which  could  make 
hope  gay,  and  fortune  desirable  ;  accustomed  to  the 
splendors  of  a  court,  and  the  scarcely  less  splendid 
hospitalities  of  her  ancestral  home ;  she  was  yet 
content  to  quit,  what  has,  not  inaptly,  been  termed 
*  this  paradise  of  plenty  and  pleasure,'  for  *a  wilder- 
ness of  wants,'  and  with  a  fortitude  superior  to  the 
delicacies  of  her  rank  and  sex,  to  trust  herself  to  an 
unknown  ocean  and  a  distant  climate,  that  she  might 
partake,  with  her  husband,  the  pure  and  spiritual 
worship  of  God.  To  the  honor,  to  the  eternal 
honor  of  her  sex,  be  it  said,  that  in  the  path  of  duty 
no  sacrifice  is  with  them  too  high,  or  too  dear. 
Nothing  is  with  them  impossible,  but  to  shrink  from 
what  love,  honor,  innocence,  religion,  requires.  The 
voice  of  pleasure  or  of  power  may  pass  by  unheed- 
ed ;  but  the  voice  of  affliction  never.  The  chamber 
of  the  sick,  the  pillow  of  the  dying,  the  vigils  of  the 

4 


26 


li 


dead,  the  altars  of  religion,  never  missed  the  pres- 
ence or  the  sympathies  of  wonlan.  Timid  though 
she  be,  and  so  delicate,  that  the  winds  of  heaven 
may  not  too  roughly  visit  her;  on  such  occasions 
she  loses  all  sense  of  danger,  and  assumes  a  preter- 
natural courage,  which  knows  not,  and  fears  not 
consequences.  Then  she  displays  that  undaunted 
spirit,  which  neither  courts  difficulties,  nor  evades 
them ;  that  resignation,  which  utters  neither  murmur 
nor  regret ;  and  that  patience  in  suffering,  which 
seems  victorious  even  over  death  itself. 

The  Lady  Arabella  perished  in  this  noble  under- 
taking, of  which  she  seemed  the  ministering  angel ; 
and  her  death  spread  universal  gloom  throughout 
the  colony.  Her  husband  was  overwhelmed  with 
grief  at  the  unexpected  event,  and  survived  her  but 
a  single  month.  Governor  Winthrop  has  pronoun- 
ced his  eulogy  in  one  short  sentence.  *  He  was  a  holy 
man,  and  wise,  and  died  in  sweet  peace.'  He  was 
truly  the  idol  of  the  people  ;  and  the  spot  selected 
by  himself  for  his  own  sepulture  became  consecrated 
in  their  eyes  ;  so  that  many  left  it  as  a  dying  request, 
that  they  might  be  buried  by  his  side.  Their  re- 
quest prevailed ;  and  the  Chapel  Burying-ground 
in  Boston,  which  contains  his  remains,  became  from 
that  time  appropriated  to  the  repose  of  the  dead.* 
Perhaps  the  best  tribute  to  this  excellent  pair  is,  that 
time,  which,  with  so  unsparing  a  hand,  consigns 
statesmen  and  heroes,  and  even  sages  to  oblivion. 


•I  Hutch.  Hist.  16;    1    Winthrop's  Journal,  34;     Eliot's  Dictionary,  Art. 
Johnson. 


87 

has  embalmed  the  memory  of  their  worth,  and  pre- 
served it  among  the  choicest  of  New-England  relics. 
It  can  scarcely  be  forgotten,  but  with  the  annals  of 
our  country. 

I  have  dwelt  with  some  particularity,  perhaps 
with  undue  solicitude,  upon  some  of  die  circumstan- 
ces attending  the  emigration  of  our  forefathers. 
They  are  necessary  to  a  full  comprehension  of  the 
difficulties  of  the  enterprise,  and  of  the  sulFerings, 
which  they  bore,  I  will  not  say  with  fortitude  merely, 
but  with  cheerful,  unrepining  resolution.  It  is  not 
by  a  few  set  phrases,  or  a  few  strong  touches,  that 
we  can  paint  their  sorrows,  or  their  struggles,  their 
calmness,  when  their  friends  were  falling  around 
them,  and  themselves  were  placed  at  the 

'  dreadful  post 

Of  observation,  darker  every  hour ; ' 

or  their  courage  at  the  approach  of  dangers  of  another 
sort.  Many  of  them  went  down  to  an  early  grave 
without  the  consolation  even  in  vision  of  an  ulti- 
mate triumph ;  and  many,  who  lived  to  partake  it, 
grappled  with  hardships,  the  plain  recital  of  which 
would  appal  more  than  the  most  studied  exaggera- 
tions of  rhetoric.  But  (let  me  repeat  it)  thanks 
be  to  God,  their  efforts  were  successful.  They 
laid  the  foundations  of  empire  in  these  northern 
regions  with  slow  and  thoughtful  labor.  Our  rever- 
ence for  their  services  should  rest,  not  upon  the  fic- 
tions of  fancy,  but  upon  a  close  survey  of  their  means 
and  their  ends,  their  motives  ond  their  lives,  their 
characters  and  their  actions.  And  I  am  much  mis- 
taken, if  that  close  survey  does  not   invigorate  our 


28 


iiiil 


patriotism,  confirm  our  principles,  and  deepen  and 
widen  the  channels  of  our  gratitude. 

The  history  of  colonies,  both  in  ancient  nnd  mod- 
em times,  may  be  gentTally  traced  back  to  the 
ambition  of  princes,  the  love  of  adventure  or  gain, 
the  pressure  of  poverty,  or  the  necessity  of  a  refuge 
from  political  oppressions.  The  ancient  nations,  for 
the  most  part,  transplanted  colonies  to  distant  re- 
gions, to  extend  the  boundaries  of  their  power,  and 
consolidate  their  strength.  They  were  sometimes 
outposts  of  the  empire,  to  hold  in  check  a  conquer- 
ed province,  and  sometimes  military  stations  to  over- 
awe and  watch  a  formidable  rival.  The  beautiful 
regions  of  Asia  Minor  were  peopled  with  Grecian 
tribes,  by  the  attractions  of  a  fertile  soil  and  delicious 
climate,  by  the  passion  for  conquest,  by  the  tempta- 
tions of  eastern  luxury,  and  by  the  ostracisms  .^jJT 
successive  factions.  Rome  gathered  them  within  the 
folds  of  her  ample  domain,  as  the  booty  of  her  arms  ; 
and  pushed  her  own  colonies  only  where  tribute 
was  to  be  exacted,  or  distant  conquests  secured. 
The  whole  line  of  her  colonies  in  Gaul,  Germany, 
and  the  North,  were  but  a  chain  of  military  commu- 
nications to  intercept  the  inroads  of  the  barbarians, 
and  furnish  employment  for  leaders  and  legions  too 
restless  and  too  ambitious  for  civil  life.  They  were 
at  once  the  sources  of  her  power,  and  her  weakness. 
To  them  Rome  was  every  thing ;  and  the  colonies 
they  occupied,  nothing,  except  as  resources  and  de- 
pots to  command  the  republic,  or  di('tate  the  succes- 
sion to  the  imperial  })urple.  '''he  Capitol  was  but  too 
often  obedient  to  the  will  of  a  provincial  commander, 
and  a  licentious  soldiery. 


f-^. 


29 


*-v!r 


The  colonies  of  modem  nations  owe  their  origin 
almost  exclusively  to  the  spirit  of  commerce.  If 
power  has  mixed  itself  among  the  ohjects  of  their 
governments,  it  has  rather  been,  as  a  consequence  of 
commerce,  than  an  independent  motive.  Ships, 
commerce,  and  colonies  were  so  long  associated  in 
the  minds  of  European  statesmen,  that  they  seemed 
inseparable  accompaniments.  Hence  arose  l^iat 
system  of  monopoly,  which  narrowed  down  all  tr^ide 
to  the  mother  country,  and  stinted  the  growth  &nd 
crippled  the  resources  of  the  colonies  to  the  measure 
of  the  wants  of  the  former.  All  Europe,  as  if  by  a 
general  conspiracy,  acted  up  to  the  very  letter  of  this 
system  for  centuries.  The  general  practice  .  was, 
like  that  attributed  to  the  Dutch  in  respect  to  the 
Spice  Islands,  to  destroy  all  the  surplus,  beyond 
that  which  would  yield  the  established  rate  of  profits. 
The  South  American  colonies  of  France,  Spain,  and 
Portugal  were  hermetically  sealed  against  the  ap- 
proach of  foreign  ships,  until  the  mighty  revolutions 
of  our  day  crumbled  the  whole  system  into  dust, 
and  opened,  almost  like  an  earthquake,  a  paihway 
through  their  interior.  Even  England  relaxed  Jier 
grasp  with  a  slow  and  reluctant  caution,  yielding 
little,  except  to  necessity,  indifferent  to  the  colonial 
interests,  and  solicitous  only  that  the  home  market 
should  gather  up  and  distribute  all  the  profits  and 
products  of  the  Indies.  Her  famous  navigation  acts, 
the  boast  of  her  statesmen  from  the  times  of  Crom- 
well down  to  ours,  are  an  undisguised  appropriation 
of  the  means  of  the  colonies  to  the  poHcy  of  the 
mother  country.     She  generally  left  the  plantations 


30 


I'M 


i!i; 


to  the  private  enterprise  of  her  subjects,  until  their 
trade  was  worthy  of  her  interference  ;  and  she  tlien 
assumed  the  government  and  regulation  of  them  for 
her  own  and  not  for  their  benefit.  Protection  be- 
came a  duty  only  at  the  time  when  it  seemed  no 
longer  a  burthen.  Her  vast  empire  in  the  East,  the 
wonder  of  our  day,  whose  fate  furnishes  a  problem, 
not  to  be  solved  by  any  former  experience,  is  but 
the  ill-managed  contrivance  of  a  private  corporation 
for  trade.  It  affords  a  curious  example  of  the  spirit 
of  conquest  engrafted  on  the  spirit  of  commerce  ; 
of  a  government  founded  on  calculations  of  pro- 
fit;  of  a  legislation  acting  on  the  industry  of  sixty 
milUons  of  subjects,  wholly  without  representation ; 
of  a  judicial  establishment  seeking  to  administer 
justice  by  appeals  to  an  unknown  code,  with  entire 
good  faith,  but  wholly  inadequate  means  ;  of  a  polit- 
ical superintendence,  which  guards  against  external 
violence,  but  which  sits  down  contented,  while  prov- 
inces are  plundered,  and  thrones  are  overturned,  in 
wars  brought  on  by  the  encroachments  of  commerce. 
The  colonies  planted  on  the  continent  of  North 
America,  were  in  a  great  measure  the  offspring  of 
private  adventure  and  enterprise,  and,  with  a  single 
exception,  of  the  spirit  of  commerce.  That  excep- 
tion is  New-England ;  and  it  is  an  exception  as 
extraordinary  as  it  is  honorable.  We  owe  our  ex- 
istence to  the  love  of  religion ;  and,  I  may  say, 
exclusively  to  the  love  of  religion.  I  am  aw  are,  that 
the  council  of  Plymouth  had  profitable  objects  in 
view,  and  that  capital  was  first  embarked,  and  a 
€harter  obtained  to  accomplish  these  ends.     But  the 


31 


scheme  had  little  chance  of  success,  and  was  in  fact 
suspended,  if  not  entirely  abandoned.  The  first 
settlement  at  Plymouth  was  made  solely  from  mo- 
tives of  religion  without  any  charter,  and  even  with- 
out any  title  to  the  land.  And  it  was  not  until  the 
charter  of  1628  was  obtained,  by  men  whose  whole 
hearts  were  devoted  to  religion,  that  the  same  im- 
pulse effected  the  colonization  of  Massachusetts. 
This  is  not  left  to  tradition ;  but  is  the  sober  truth  of 
history,  unquestioned,  because  unquestionable.  It 
has  the  highest  record  evidence  in  its  support.  It 
has,  if  possible,  even  weightier  proofs,  in  the  j)ublic 
acts  of  the  colony  ;  in  our  past  and  existing  institu- 
tions ;  in  the  very  errors,  as  well  as  the  virtues  of 
our  forefathers.  They  were  Christians  ;  they  were 
Puritans  ;  they  were  Christians  persecuted  by  Chris- 
tians ;  they  were  Puritans  driven  into  exile  by  the 
priesthood. 

The  influence  of  religion  upon  the  human  charac- 
ter, is  one  of  the  most  interesting  studies  in  the 
history  of  our  race.  But  the  influence  of  Christian- 
ity, whether  viewed  in  respect  to  the  extent  of  its 
reach,  or  the  nature  of  its  operations,  is  the  most 
instructive  of  all  speculations,  which  can  employ  the 
intellect  of  man.  Paganism  was  indulgent  in  its 
general  policy,  for  it  taught  little  of  duty,  and  claim- 
ed no  exclusive  possession  of  the  oracles,  or  even 
of  the  favor  of  its  divinities.  In  truth,  it  floated  round 
the  mind  with  a  loose  and  indeterminate  credit,  and 
easily  admitted  into  its  temples  the  worship  of  strange 
gods ;  sometimes  because  their  favor  might  be  pro- 
pitiated,  or   their  vengeance    averted ;    sometimes, 


32 


:^i 


i!'5: 


•  ■ '  ■  ■*■ 


11 


li|i 


'■'} 


perhaps,  because  the  relative  power,  superiority, 
anil  oliice  of  each  mi^ht  not  be  well  adjusted  in  their 
mythology.  Quarrels  and  divisions  about  faith  and 
doctrines,  were  of  very  rare  occurrence  in  the  Heath- 
en world ;  for  their  religion  dealt  more  in  rites  and 
ceremonies,  than  in  fixed  belief.*  There  would  be 
little  inclination  for  public  struggles,  where  rewards 
and  punishments  were  supposed  to  be  administered, 
not  according  to  desert,  but  according  to  the  favor, 
to  the  passions,  and  even  to  the  animosities  of  their  di- 
vinities. There  could  be  little  responsibility  cher- 
ished, where  acts,  offensive  to  some,  might  on  that 
very  account  be  grateful  to  others,  of  their  gods. 
Gibbon's  splendid  description  of  the  Roman  religion 
is  true  of  nearly  the  whole  ancient  world.  '  The 
various  modes  of  worship,  which  prevailed  in  the 
Roman  world,  were  all  considered  by  the  people,  as 
equally  true  ;  by  the  philosopher,  as  equally  false  ; 
and  by  the  magistrate,  as  equally  useful.  And  thus 
toleration  produced,  not  only  mutual  indulgence,  but 
even  religious  concord.'  f 

Far  different  is  the  case  with  Christianity.  It 
propounds  no  equivocal  doctrines.  It  recognises 
no  false  or  foreign  gods.  It  allows  no  idolatrous 
worship.  It  presents  to  all  men,  one  Supreme  Being 
the  only  proper  object  of  worship,  unchangeable, 
infinite,  omniscient,  all-wise,  all-good,  all-powerful, 
all-merciful,  the  God  of  all,  and  the  Father  of  all. 
It  developes  one  complete  system  of  duties,  fit  for 
all  times,  and  all  stations  ;  for  the  monarch  on  his 


•  Bacon's  Essays  ;  2  Bacon's  Works,  257. 

1 1  Gibbon's  Hist.  ch.  2,  p.  46  ;  Montesquieu's  Spirit  of  Laws,  b.  23,  ch.  15. 


33 


throne,  and  the  peasant  in  his  cottaj^e.  It  brings 
all  men  to  the  same  level,  and  measures  all  by  the 
same  stanihird.  It  himihles  in  the  dust  the  proud 
and  the  arrogant ;  it  gives  no  heed  to  the  glory  of 
princes, or  concpierors,  or  nobles.  It  exalts  the  lowly 
virtues,  the  love  of  peace,  charity,  humility,  forgive- 
ness, resignation,  patience,  purity,  holiness.  It 
teaches  a  moral  and  final  accountability  for  every 
action.  It  proposes  sanctions  for  its  precepts  of  no 
earthly  reach ;  but  such  as  are  infinite,  unchangea- 
ble, and  eternal.  Its  rewards  are  the  promises  of 
immortal  bliss ;  its  punishments  a  fearful  and  over- 
whelming retribution.  It  excuses  no  compromises 
of  principle  and  no  paltering  with  sin.  It  acknowl- 
edges no  sacrifices,  but  of  a  broken  and  contrite 
spirit;  no  pardon,  but  by  repentance  of  heart  and 
reformation  of  life.  In  its  view,  this  life  is  but  the 
entrance  upon  existence ;  a  transitory  state  of  pro- 
bation and  trial ;  and  the  grave  is  the  portal  to  that 
better  world,  *  where  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears 
from  their  eyes  ;  and  there  shall  be  no  more  death, 
neither  sorrow,  nor  crying,  nor  shall  there  be  any 
more  pain.* 

To  minds  engrossed  by  such  thoughts,  and  fixed 
in  such  belief,  what  could  there  be  seducing  or  sat- 
isfying in  the  things  of  this  world?  It  would  be 
impossible  for  them  for  a  moment  to  put  in  competi- 
tion the  affairs  of  time,  with  the  dazzling  splen- 
dors and  awful  judgments  of  eternity.  We  need  not 
wonder,  therefore,  that  Christianity  has  had,  in  all 
ages,  and  in  all  sects,  its  devotees  and  martyrs,  men 
who  would  endure  every  evil  rather  than  renoimce 

5 


'M 


v9 


'^.; 


'V'r 


I; 


it,  whether  it  were  exile,  or  torfeitiire,  or  torture,  or 
(l(«;ith ;  that  perseention  should  have  been  at  no 
loss  ("or  victims,  whenever  she  had  lij^htcd  her  fires; 
and  that  in  the  very  moment  ot"  her  imagined  triumph, 
while  her  hands  were  yet  reeking  with  blood,  she 
should  have  felt  her  own  doom  sealed,  and  her  own 
power  withered. 

The  Reformation  was  the  natural  result  of  causes, 
which  had  been  silently  working  their  way  from  the 
first  dawn  of  the  revival  of  letters.  Learning  stimu- 
lated inquiry ;  inquiry  created  doubt ;  and  doubt 
brought  on  a  feverish  restlessness  for  knowledge, 
which  must  sooner  or  later  have  corrected  abuses 
and  errors,  even  if  political  causes  had  not  hastened 
the  event.  Fortunately  for  England,  fortunately 
for  the  cause  of  religion  in  its  most  catholic  sense, 
the  passions  of  a  sanguinary  and  sensual  monarch 
effected  at  a  single  blow,  what  perhaps  it  would 
otherwise  have  required  ages  to  accomplish.  The 
controversy  of  Henry  the  Eighth  with  the  Papal  see 
arrested  the  attention  of  all  Europe,  and  produced 
in  England  a  deep  conviction  of  the  necessity  of 
some  reformation  in  the  church.  It  was  of  course, 
that  parties  should,  upon  such  an  occasion,  rally 
under  different  banners.  Many  of  the  dignitaries, 
both  of  the  church  and  state,  resisted  every  innova- 
tion, as  fraught  with  evil,  not  merely  from  a  blind 
reverence  for  antiquity,  but  also  from  that  sympa- 
thetic dread  of  change,  which  belongs  to  the  habits 
of  mankind  in  all  ages.  Many  were  ardently 
devoted  to  the  cause  of  reform ;  but  wished  to 
touch  gross  abuses  only,  iuid  thus  to  pave  the  way  for 


35 


^radiini,  Miit  solid  impr()vcmi»nt.>?.  Many  of  (ItM'pri 
thought,  and  vvarnuT  zeal,  and  holder  purposrs, 
deemed  it  matter  of  conscience  to  root  out  every 
error,  and  to  hring  back  Christianity  at  once  to  what 
they  esteemed  the  simplicity  of  ihe  CJospel.  To  this 
last  class  belonged  the  body  of  thi'  Puritans,  a  class 
as  distinguished  for  learning,  talents,  probity,  and 
disinterestedness,  as  any  which  adorned  their  own 
times.  It  is  a  mistake  commonly  enough  entertain- 
ed, that  they  were,  in  the  modern  sense,  Dissenters  ; 
that  they  were  hostile  to  episcopacy  in  every  shape  ; 
and  that  they  pushed  their  aims  to  ihc  overthrow  of 
all  church  government.  The  truth  was  far  other- 
wise. Many  of  the  most  distinguished  among  them 
were  reared  in  the  bosom  of  the  church,  and  sin- 
cerely loved  its  venerable  forms.  Their  object  was 
to  reform  such  of  its  rites  and  ceremonies  only,  as 
they  deemed  inconsistent  with  the  Scriptures.  If  in 
the  course  of  events  they  arrived  at  diflferent  con- 
clusions, it  was  because  prerogative  pressed  on  them 
with  a  heavy  hand;  because  prelacy  became  the 
instrument  of  persecution;  because  the  laws  re- 
specting uniformity  under  the  famous  High  Commis- 
sion Court  trampled  upon  their  rights  and  conscien- 
ces, and  drove  them  to  examine  into  the  scriptural 
foundations  of  the  hierarchy.  In  all  their  struggles, 
from  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth  to  that  of  James 
the  First,  the  Puritans  clung  to  the  establishment 
with  a  sincerity  of  affection,  which,  considering  their 
sufferings  from  papacy  and  prelacy,  is  marvellous. 
In  the  farewell  address  of  our  forefathers  at  the  very 
n\onient  of  thrir  (lej)arture  for  America,  it  breaks  out 


36 


into  expressions  of  warm  and  filial  attarhmcnt.  We 
*esti't'm  it  our  honor,'  say  tlu  y,  Mo  call  \hv.  church 
of  England,  from  whence  we  rise,  our  dear  nioiher; 
and  cannot  j)arl  from  our  native  country,  where  she 
specially  residelh,  without  much  sadness  of  heart, 
and  many  tears  in  our  eyes,  ever  acknowledging, 
that  such  hope  and  part  as  we  have  obtained  in  the 
common  salvation,  we  have  received  in  her  bosom, 
and  sucked  it  from  lier  breasts.  We  leave  it  not, 
therefore,  as  loathini^  that  milk,  wherewith  we  were 
nourished  there;  but  blessiui^  (loil  for  the  parentage 
and  education,  as  members  of  the  same  body,  shall 
always  rejoice  in  her  good,  and  unfeignedly  grieve 
for  any  sorrow,  that  shall  ever  betide  her ;  and 
while  we  have  breath,  sincerely  desire  and  endeavour 
the  continuance  and  abundance  of  her  welfare,  with 
the  enlargement  of  her  bounds  in  the  kingdom  of 
Christ  Jesus.'  * 

The  Puritans  have  been  divided  by  an  accom- 
plished historian  into  three  parties  ;  the  political  Puri- 
tans, who  maintained  the  highest  principles  of  civil 
liberty  ;  the  Puritans  in  discijiline,  who  were  averse 
to  the  ceremonies  and  episcopal  government  of  the 
church  ;  and  the  doctrinal  Puritans,  Mho  rigidly  de- 
fended the  speculative  opinions  of  the  first  reformers.! 
The  remark,  such  as  it  is,  is  applicable  to  a  later 
period  ;  for  at  the  emigration  of  our  ancestors, 
scarcely  any  divisions  in  doctrine  existed  among  the 
Protestants  of  England.  The  great  controversies 
touched  the  rites  and  ceremonies,  and  the  fasts  and 


1  Hutch.  Hist.  Appendix,  487,  483.  f  ^  Hume's  Hist.  ch.  li,  p.  272. 


37 


feasts  of  the  rhur<  h.  the  voMtments  of  the  prie!»thooil, 
kneeling  at  the  altar,  the  sij^n  of  tht;  cross,  and  the 
manner  of  celebratinj;  the  onhnances.  The  usaiies  of 
the  church  in  some  of  these  resj)ects  were  ileetneil 
by  the  Puritans  uuscriptural,  th(;  remnants  of  popery, 
jinil  ^ross  corruptions  of  reli^^ion.  In  tlie  sincerity 
of  their  hearts,  they  coulil  not  practise  them  ;  in 
the  scruples  of  their  consciences,  they  felt  bound  to 
reject  them.  For  this  sincerity,  for  these  scruples, 
they  were  expelled  from  their  benefices ;  they  were 
subjected  to  spiritual  censures  ;  they  were  loailed 
with  temporal  punishments.  They  were  even  com- 
pelled, by  penalties,  to  attend  upon  a  ])ul)lic  worship, 
which  they  abhorreil,  from  the  time  of  Elizabeth 
down  to  the  Revolution  of  1G88.*  The  lan^ua<?e  of 
the  haughty  James  to  them  was,  *  I  will  have  but 
one  doctrine,  and  one  discipline,  one  religion  in  sub- 
stance and  in  ceremony.'  f  And  he  denounced  them 
as  '  a  sect  unable  to  be  suffered  in  any  well  govern- 
ed commonwealth.' J  As  if  to  ensnare  their  con- 
sciences or  to  deride  their  scruples,  Archbishop 
Laud  enjoined  the  introduction  of  sports  on  Sunday, 
a  day,  which,  he  knew,  they  held  consecrated  solely 
to  the  solemn  services  of  religion.  For  nonconfor- 
mity to  these  and  other  canonical  injunctions  of  a 
like  nature,  four  hundred  clergymen  were  ejected, 
suspended,  or  silenced  in  one  single  year  of  this  reign.§ 
With  an  ill-omened  perseverance  in  the  same  bigoted 
system,  Charles  the  Second,  soon  after  his  restora- 


•  6  Hume's  Hist.  163;  7  Hume's  Hist.  41,  516. 
t  Prince's  Anoals,  105.  X  Ibid.  107. 


§  Ibid.  111. 


38 


m 


tion,  rompelled  two  thousand  clergymen  in  a  single 
(lay  to  relinquish  their  cures,  presenting  to  a  licen- 
tious court  the  noble  spectacle  of  men,  who  resigned 
all  earthly  preferments  to  their  religious  tenets.* 
Yet  Mr  Hume,  in  his  eager  apologies  for  royalty, 
could  survey  such  scenes  with  philosophical  indiffer- 
ence, and  intimate  a  doubt,  whether  they  deserved 
the  appellation  of  persecution,  because  the  victims 
were  Puritans,  f 

After  all,  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  the  scoffer,  or 
the  skeptic ;  of  the  parasite,  who  fawns  on  courts,  or 
the  proselyte,  who  doats  on  the  infallibility  of  his  own 
sect,  to  obscure  the  real  dignity  of  the  character  of 
the  Puritans.  We  may  lament  their  errors ;  we  may 
regret  their  prejudices ;  we  may  pity  their  infirmi- 
ties ;  we  may  smile  at  the  stress  laid  by  them  on 
petty  observances,  and  trifling  forms.  We  may  be- 
lieve, that  their  piety  was  mixed  up  with  too  much 
gloom  and  severity  ;  that  it  was  sometimes  darkened 
by  superstition,  and  sometimes  degraded  by  fanati- 
cism ;  that  it  shut  out  too  much  the  innocent  pleas- 
ures of  life,  and  enforced  too  strictly  a  discipline, 
irksome,  cheerless,  and  oppressive ;  that  it  was 
sometimes  over  rigid,  when  it  might  have  been  in- 
dulgent ;  stern,  when  it  might  have  been  affectionate ; 
pertinacious,  when  concession  would  have  been  just, 
as  well  as  graceful ;  and  flashing  with  fiery  zeal, 
when  charity  demanded  moderation,  and  ensured 
peace.  All  this,  and  much  more,  may  be  admitted, 
for  they  were  but  men,  frail,  fallible  men,  and  yet 


*  OHumeV  HUt.  161. 


t  7  Huiiie's  Hitit.  584. 


39 


ItiJivc  behind  solid  claims  upon  the  rovrrciire  and 
admiration  ol"  mankind.  01"  them  it  may  be  said 
with  as  much  truth,  as  of  any  men,  that  have  ever 
lived,  that  they  acted  up  to  their  principles,  ;uid 
followed  them  out  with  an  unfaltering  firmness. 
They  displayed  at  all  times  a  downright  honesty  of 
heart  and  purpose.  In  simplicity  of  life,  in  godly 
sincerity,  in  temperance,  in  humility,  and  in  patience 
as  well  as  in  zeal,  they  seemed  to  belong  to  the 
apostolical  age.  Their  wisdom,  while  it  looked  on 
this  world,  reached  far  beyond  it  in  its  aim  and  ob- 
jects. They  valued  earthly  pursuits  no  farther  than 
they  were  consistent  with  religion.  Amidst  the 
temptations  of  human  grandeur  they  stood  unmoved, 
unshaken,  unseduced.  Their  scruples  of  conscience, 
if  they  sometimes  betrayed  them  into  difficulty,  never 
betrayed  them  into  voluntary  sin.  They  possessed 
a  moral  courage,  which  looked  present  dangers  in 
the  face,  as  though  they  were  distant  or  doubtful, 
seeking  no  escape,  and  indulging  no  terror.  When 
in  defence  of  their  faith,  of  what  they  deemed  pure 
and  undefiled  religion,  we  see  them  resign  their 
property,  their  preferments,  their  friends,  and  their 
homes ;  when  we  see  them  submitting  to  bankhment, 
and  ignominy,  and  even  to  death ;  when|fre  see 
them  in  foreign  lands,  on  inhospitable  shores,  in  the 
midst  of  sickness  and  famine,  in  desolation  and  dis- 
aster, still  true  to  themselves,  still  confident  in  God's 
providence,  still  submissive  to  his  chastisements,  still 
thankful  for  his  blessings,  still  ready  to  exclaim  in 
the  language  of  Scripture — '  We  are  troubled  on 
every  side,  yet  not  distressed  ;  we   are  pori»lexed, 


u 


40 


but  not  in  despair ;  persecuted,  but  not  forsaken ; 
cast  down,  but  not  destroyed  ;'  when  we  see  such 
things,  where  is  the  man,  whose  soul  does  not  melt 
within  him  at  the  sight  ?  Where  shall  examples  be 
sought  or  found  more  full  to  point  out  what  Christi- 
anity is,  and  what  it  ought  to  accomplish  ? 

What  better  origin  could  we  desire,  than  from  man 
of  characters  like  these  1  Men,  to  whom  conscience 
was  every  thing,  and  worldly  prosperity  nothing. 
Men,  whose  thoughts  belonged  to  eternity  rather 
than  to  time.  Men,  who  in  the  near  prospect  of 
their  sacrifices,  could  say,  as  our  forefathers  did  say, 
*  When  we  are  in  our  graves,  it  will  be  all  one, 
whether  we  have  lived  in  plenty  or  in  penury ; 
whether  we  have  died  in  a  bed  of  down,  or  locks  of 
straw.  Only  this  is  the  advantage  of  the  mean  con- 
dition, THAT   IT  IS  A  MORE    FREEDOM   TO   DIE.      And 

the  less  comfort  any  have  in  the  things  of  this  world, 
the  more  liberty  they  have  to  lay  up  treasure  in 
heaven.'*  Men,  who  in  answer  to  the  objection, 
urged  by  the  anxiety  of  friendship,  that  they  might 
perish  by  the  way,  or  by  hunger  or  the  sword,  could 
answer,  as  our  forefathers  did,  *  We  may  trust  God's 
providence  for  these  things.  Either  he  will  keep 
these  4Kls  from  us ;  or  will  dispose  them  for  our 
good,  and  enable  us  to  bear  them.'  f  Men,  who  in 
still  later  days,  in  their  appeal  for  protection  to  the 
throne,  could  say  with  pathetic  truth  and  simplicity, 
as  our  forefathers  did,  *  that  we  might  enjoy  divine 
worship  without  human  mixtures,  without  offence  to 


3  Hutch.  Collect  p.  29. 


t  Ibid.  29,  30. 


41 


God,  man,  our  own  consciences,  with  leave,  hut  not 
witfwul  tears,  we  departed  from  our  country,  kindred, 
and  fathers'  houses  into  this  Patmos ;  in  relation 
whereunto  we  do  not  say,  our  garments  are  become 
old  by  reason  of  the  very  long  journey,  but  that  our- 
selves, who  came  away  in  our  strength,  are,  by  reason 
of  long  absence,  many  of  us  become  grey-headed, 
and  some  of  us  stooping  for  age.'  * 

If  these  be  not  the  sentiments  of  lofty  virtue  ;  if 
they  breathe  not  the  genuine  spirit  of  Christianity ; 
if  they  speak  not  high  approaches  towards  moral 
perfection  ;  if  they  possess  not  an  enduring  sub- 
limity ; — then,  indeed,  have  I  ill  read  the  human 
heart ;  then,  indeed,  have  I  strangely  mistaken  the 
inspirations  of  religion.  If  men,  like  these,  can  be 
passed  by  with  indifference,  because  they  wore  not 
the  princely  robes,  or  the  sacred  lawn,  because  they 
shone  not  in  courts,  or  feasted  in  fashionable  circles, 
then,  indeed,  is  Christian  glory  a  vain  shadow,  and 
human  virtue  a  dream,  about  which  we  disquiet  our- 
selves in  vain. 

But  it  is  not  so — it  is  not  so.  There  are  those 
around  me,  whose  hearts  beat  high,  and  whose  lips 
grow  eloquent,  when  the  remembrance  of  such  an- 
cestors comes  over  their  thoughts  ;  when  they  read 
in  their  deeds  not  the  empty  forms,  but  the  essence 
of  holy  living  and  holy  dying.  Time  was,  when  the 
exploits  of  war,  the  heroes  of  many  battles,  the  con- 
querors of  millions,  the  men,  who  waded  through 
slaughter  to  thrones,  the  kings,  whose  footsteps  were 


♦  3  Hutch.  Collect.  328. 


p 


^i 


42 


darkened  with  blood,  and  the  sceptred  oppressors 
oi*  the  earth,  were  alone  deemed  worthy  themes  for 
the  poet  and  the  orator,  for  the  song  of  the  minstrel, 
and  the  hosannas  of  the  multitude.  Time  was,  when 
feats  of  arms,  and  tournaments,  and  crusades,  and 
the  high  array  of  chivalry,  and  the  pride  of  royal 
banners  waving  for  victory,  engrossed  all  minds. 
Time  was,  when  the  ministers  of  the  altar  sat  down 
by  the  side  of  the  tyrant,  and  numbered  his  victims, 
and  stimulated  his  persecutions,  and  screened  the 
instruments  of  his  crimes — and  there  was  praise  and 
glory  and  revelry  for  these  things.  Murder,  and 
rapine,  burning  cities,  and  desolated  plains,  if  so  be 
they  were  at  the  bidding  of  royal  or  baronial  feuds, 
led  on  by  the  courtier  or  the  clan,  were  matters  of 
public  boast,  the  delight  of  courts,  and  the  treasured 
pleasure  of  the  fireside  tales.  But  these  times  have 
passed  away.  Christianity  has  resumed  her  meek 
and  holy  reign.  The  Puritans  have  not  lived  in  vain. 
The  simple  piety  of  the  Pilgrims  of  New-England 
casts  into  shade  this  false  glitter,  which  dazzled  and 
betrayed  men  into  the  worship  of  their  destroyers. 

It  has  been  said  in  the  wantonness  of  folly,  or  the 
presumptuousness  of  ignorance,  that  America  was 
peopled  much  in  the  same  way,  as  Botany  Bay,  with 
outcasts  and  convicts.  So  far  as  respects  New- 
England,  there  could  not  be  a  more  flagrant  violation 
of  the  truth  of  history.  The  poor,  the  friendless, 
and  the  oppressoa  came  indeed  hither.  But  their 
sole  crime  was,  that  they  loved  God  more  than  they 
feared  man.  They  came,  too,  under  the  guidance  of 
men  elevated  by  their  rank,  their  fortune,  and  their 


' 


43 


' 


learning  in  their  own  country.  Some  of  them  were 
allied  to  noble  families,  whose  graceful  honors  have 
descended  to  our  days.  Many  of  tliem  were  gentry 
of  the  realm,  and  possessed  pu!)lic  respect  from  their 
known  virtues  and  opulence.  Man)  were  distin- 
guished for  high  attainments  in  literature  and  sci- 
ence, and  could  trace  back  their  matriculations  to 
the  Universities  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  Many 
of  them  were  ripe  for  public  honors  at  home,  if  they 
had  chosen  to  remain  there.  Many  of  them  were 
the  friends  and  compeers  of  Cromwell,  and  Pym, 
and  Hampden,  and  Milton,  and  other  illustrious  men, 
who,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  changes  of  party,  and  all 
the  studied  disparagements  of  royalty,  still  continue 
to  attract  the  reverence  of  mankind.  Need  I  name 
Winthrop,  Dudley,  Endicott,  Humphrey,  Saltonstall, 
Johnson,  Nowel,  Bradstreet,  and  Pynchon  ?  Or 
among  the  clergy,  Higginson,  Skelton,  Cotton,  Eliot, 
Davenport,  Williams,  Wilson,  Norton,  Rogers,  and 
Hooker,  to  many  of  whom  we  may,  with  the  honest 
enthusiasm  of  Mather,  apply  the  praise  of  Salmasius, 
*  Vir  nunquam  satis  laudatus,  nee  temere  sine  laude 
nominandus.'  * 

But  to  us  it  would  not  be  matter  of  regret,  much 
less  of  reproach,  if  the  case  were  far  otherwise  ;  if 
we  could  count  among  our  ancestors  only  the  hum- 
ble, the  poor,  and  the  forlorn.  Rank,  station,  talents, 
and  learning  did  indeed  add  lustre  to  their  acts ;  and 
impart  a  more  striking  dignity  to  their  sufferings  by 
giving  them  a  bolder  relief.     But  it  was  the  purity  of 


*  See  Eliot's  Biog.  Dictionary,  Art.  Davenport ;  2  IIi:it.  Collect.  (2d  series) 
p.  2«i0. 


44 


their  principles,  their  integrity,  and  devout  piety, 
which  constituted  the  solid  fabric  of  their  fame.  It 
was  Christianity,  which  cast  over  their  character  its 
warm  and  glorious  light,  and  gave  it  an  everlasting 
freshness.  It  was  their  faith  in  God,  which  shed 
such  beauty  over  their  lives,  and  clothed  this  mortal, 
with  the  form  of  immortality.  In  comparison  with 
these,  the  distinctions  of  this  world,  however  high 
or  various  they  may  be,  are  but  evanescent  points,  a 
drop  to  the  ocean,  an  instant  to  eternity,  a  ray  of 
light  to  the  innumerous  fires,  which  blaze  on  uncon- 
sumed  in  the  skies.  This  is  not  the  poor  estimate 
of  man,  the  being  of  a  day ;  it  is  the  voice  of  that 
Revelation,  which  has  spoken  to  our  hopes  and  fears 
with  an  authority,  which  rebukes,  while  it  convinces, 
our  reason. 

Let  us  rejoice,  then,  at  our  origin  with  an  honest 
joy.  Let  us  exultingly  hail  this  day  as  one  of  glo- 
rious memory.  Let  us  proudly  survey  this  land,  the 
land  of  our  fathers.  It  is  our  precious  inheritance. 
It  was  watered  by  their  tears  ;  it  was  subdued  by 
their  hands  ;  it  was  defended  by  their  valor ;  it  was 
consecrated  by  their  virtues.  Where  is  the  empire, 
which  has  beer,  won  with  so  much  innocence? 
Where  is  the  empire,  which  has  been  maintained 
with  so  much  moderation  ? 

I  pass  to  other  topics,  where  the  task  of  vindica- 
tion or  apolog}'  becomes  a  duty  of  the  day ;  a  task, 
which,  I  trust,  may  be  performed  with  due  reverence 
to  our  forefathers,  and  with  a  still  greater  reverence 
for  truth. 


45 


It  has  been  said,  that  our  forefathers  were  bigoted, 
intolerant,  and  persecutinu; ;  that  while  they  demand- 
ed religious  freedom  for  themselves,  they  denied  it 
to  all  others  ;  that  in  their  eyes  even  error  in  cere- 
mony or  mode  of  worship  was  equally  reprehensible 
with  error  in  doctrine  ;  and,  if  persisted  in,  deserved 
the  temporal  punishments  denounced  upon  heresy. 
Mr  Hume  *  has  dwelt  with  no  small  complacency 
upon  the  fact,  that  the  Puritans  *  maintained  that  they 
themselves  were  the  only  pure  church  ;  that  their 
principles  and  practices  ought  to  be  established  by 
law  ;  and  that  no  others  ought  to  be  tolerated.' 

I  am  not  disposed  to  deny  the  truth  of  the  charge, 
or  to  conceal,  or  to  extenuate  the  facts.  I  stand  not 
up  here  the  apologist  for  persecution,  whether  it  be 
by  Catholic  or  Protestant,  by  Puritan  or  Prelate,  by 
Congregationalist  or  Covenanter,  by  Church  or  State, 
by  the  Monarch  or  the  People.  Wherever,  and  by 
whomsoever,  it  is  promulgated  or  supported,  under 
whatever  disguises,  for  whatever  purposes,  at  all 
times,  and  under  all  circumstances,  it  is  a  gross  viola- 
tion of  the  rights  of  conscience,  and  utterly  incon- 
sistent with  the  spirit  of  Christianity.  I  care  not, 
whether  it  goe3  to  life,  or  property,  or  office,  or 
reputation,  or  mere  private  comfort,  it  is  equally  an 
outrage  upon  religion  and  the  unalienable  rights  of 
man.  If  there  is  any  right,  sacred  beyond  all  others, 
because  it  imports  everlasting  consequences,  it  is 
the  right  to  worship  God  according  to  the  dictates 
of  our  own  consciences.     Whoever  attempts  to  nar- 


*  6  Hume's  Hist.  164. 


% 


46 


row  it  down  in  any  degree,  to  limit  it  by  the  creed 
of  any  sect,  to  bound  the  exercise  of  private  judg- 
ment, or  free  irniuiry,  by  the  standard  of  his  own 
faith,  be  he  ])riest  or  hiyman,  ruler  or  subject,  dis- 
honors so  far  tiie  profession  of  Christianity,  and 
wounds  it  in  its  vital  virtues.  The  doctrine,  on 
which  such  attempts  are  founded,  goes  to  the  de- 
struction of  all  free  institutions  of  government. 
There  is  not  a  truth  to  be  gathered  from  history 
more  certain,  or  more  momentous,  than  this,  that 
civil  liberty  cannot  long  be  separated  from  religious 
liberty  without  danger,  and  ultimately  without  de- 
struction to  both.  Wherever  religious  liberty  exists, 
it  will,  first  or  last,  bring  in,  and  establish  political 
liberty.  Wherever  it  is  suppressed,  the  church  es- 
tablishment will,  first  or  last,  become  the  engine  of 
despotism,  and  overthrow,  unless  it  be  itself  over- 
thrown, every  vestige  of  political  right.  How  it  is 
possible  to  imagine,  that  a  religion  breathing  the 
spirit  of  mercy  and  benevolence,  teaching  the  for- 
giveness of  injuries,  the  exercise  of  charity,  and  the 
return  of  good  for  evil ;  how  it  is  possible,  I  say, 
for  such  a  religion  to  be  so  perverted,  as  to  breathe 
the  spirit  of  slaughter  and  persecution,  of  discord 
and  vengeance  for  differences  of  opinion,  is  a  most 
unaccountable  and  extraordinary  moral  phenomenon. 
Still  more  extraordinary,  that  it  should  be  the  doc- 
trine, not  of  base  and  wicked  men  merely,  seeking 
to  cover  up  their  own  misdeeds  ;  but  of  good  men, 
seeking  the  way  of  salvation  with  uprightness  of  heart 
and  purpose.  It  affords  a  melancholy  proof  of  the 
infumity  of  human  judgment,  and  teaches  a  lesson 


47 


of  liumility,   from   uhich  s])iii(iiiil   pride    may  loam 


ni 


(.'okness,  ainl  spiritual  zeal  a  iiKKU'ratini;  wis- 
dom. 

Let  us  not,  tlieii,  in  exaiii' Mini;  the  deeds  of  our 
fathers,  shrink  from  our  proper  iluly  to  ourselves. 
Let  us  not  be  untrue  to  the  lights  of  our  own  days, 
to  the  religious  privilejijes,  which  we  enjoy,  to  those 
constitutions  of  government,  whieh  proclaim  Chris- 
tian ecpiality  to  all  sects,  and  deny  the  power  of 
persecution  to  all.  Our  fathers  had  not  arrived  at 
the  great  truth,  that  action,  not  opinion,  is  the  proper 
object  of  human  legislation  ;  that  religious  freedom 
is  the  birthright  of  man  ;  that  governments  have  no 
authority  to  inflict  punishment  for  conscientious  dif- 
ferences of  opinion ;  and  that  to  w  orship  Cod  ac- 
cording to  our  own  belief  is  not  only  our  privilege, 
but  is  our  duty,  our  absolute  duty,  from  wliich  no 
human  tribunal  can  absolve  us.  We  should  be  un- 
worthy of  our  fathers,  if  we  should  persist  in  error, 
when  it  is  known  to  us.  Their  precept,  like  their 
example,  speaking  as  it  were  from  their  se})ulchres, 
is,  to  follow  truth,  not  as  they  saw  it,  but  as  we  see 
it,  fearlessly  and  faithfully. 

Let  us  meet  the  charge  against  them  of  bigotry, 
intolerance,  and  persecution,  and  gather  from  it  in- 
struction and  admonition  for  our  own  conduct. 
Were  our  forefathers  singular  in  this  respect  1  Does 
the  reproach,  if  reproach  it  be,  that  men  do  not  live 
up  to  truths,  which  they  do  not  comprehend,  rest 
upon  them  alone?  So  far  from  this  being  true, 
there  was  not  at  that  time  in  all  Christendom  a 
single  spot,  however  remote,  in  which  the  freedom 


48 


of  religious  opinion  was  supported  by  prince  or 
p(M)))le.  'rhrou^;h«)iif  all  Kurope,  if  wo  cxcopi  Hol- 
land, th(3  practice  of  hurnin^  heretics  still  prtjvailed, 
not  only  in  Catliolie  hut  in  Protestant  countries. 
And  even  in  Holland,  hanishment  was  not  an  uncom- 
mon punishment  for  those,  who  ol)stinately  persisted 
in  heresies  of  doctrine.*  Wiiat  is  it,  then,  that  is 
recjuired  of  our  forefathers?  That  they  should  have 
possessed  a  wisdom  and  liberality  far  superior  to  their 
own  age  ; — that  they  should  have  acted  upon  truths 
as  clear  and  settled,  of  which  faint  glimmerinjifs  only, 
or  at  least  a  brief  and  dubious  twilight,  had  then 
shot  up  in  unsteady  streams  to  direct  their  course  ; — 
that  learned  as  they  were,  and  wide  as  were  their 
researches,  and  painful  as  was  their  diligence,  they 
should  have  outstripped  all  others  in  the  race,  and 
surmounted  the  prejudices  and  prescriptions  of 
twelve  centuries.  It  would  be  dealing  out  a  hard 
measure  of  justice  to  require  perfect  conformity  un- 
der all  circumstances  to  our  own  sense  of  duty. 
It  would  be  dealing  out  still  harder  measure  to 
press  upon  one  poor,  persecuted  sect  the  sins  of  all 
Christendom  ;  to  make  them  alone  responsible  for 
opinions,  which  had  become  sacred  by  their  anticfui- 
ty,  as  well  as  their  supposed  coincidence  with  Scrip- 
ture. Uniformity  of  faith  and  intolerance  of  error 
had  been  so  long  the  favorite  dogmas  of  all  schools 
of  theology  and  government,  that  they  had  ceased 
to  be  examined.  They  were  deemed  texts  for  the 
preacher,  and  not  inquiries  for  the  critic. 


*  6  Hume's  Hist.  57, 163 ;  7  Hume's  Hist.  20,  41, 615. 


49 


I  am  awaro,  that  in  the  writings  of  some  of  the 
early  reronmrs,  ilu-rr  may  bo  touiul  here  and  there 
passaiijcs,  uITu  h  rccoiijniMj  iho  |>riii(  ijik  s  of  rclii^ious 
libc'iiy.  Uut  wo  niiist  rLnitniiiLT,  ihat  thoy  were 
uttered  in  llie  heat  of  coiilroversy,  to  l)eut  down  the 
authority  of  tlie  Koniisli  churcii ;  and  so  httlc  were 
they  sustained  hy  pubhc  opinion,  that  tlioy  were 
hunenlably  forgotten  in  tiie  lirst  moments  of  Protes- 
tant vi(  loiy.  They  were  mere  outworks  in  the  sys- 
tem of  theok)i;ieal  opinions,  whieh  might  form  a 
defence  a;>;ainst  Catlioiic  attacks  ;  and  were  treated 
witli  contempt  or  indilierence,  when  heresies  sprung 
up  in  the  bo.>om  of  the  new  faith.  My  Lord  Bacon, 
in  his  discourse  upon  the  unity  of  rohgion,  written 
with  a  modeiation  becoming  liis  great  mind,  and  with 
a  spirit  of  inJuigence  far  beyond  the  age,  has  never- 
theless contended  strenuously  for  the  unity  of  faith, 
and  deckired,  that  'heresies  and  schisms  Jire  of  all 
others  the  greatest  scandals.*  At  the  same  time  he 
boldly  warns  us  not  *  to  propagate  rehgion  by  wars, 
or  by  sanguinary  persecutions  to  force  conscien- 
ces.* *  At  the  distance  of  a  century,  the  enlightened 
author  of  the  '  Spirit  of  Laws  *  avowed  the  doctrine, 
that  it  is  sound  policy,  when  the  state  is  already 
satisfied  with  the  established  religion,  not  to  suffer 
the  establishment  of  another.  And  while  he  declares 
that  penal  laws,  in  respect  to  religion,  ought  to  be 
avoided,  he  paradoxically  maintains  the  doctrine,  as 
a  fundamental  principle,  that  when  the  state  is  at 
liberty  to  receive  or  reject  a  new  religion,  it  ought 


*  2  Bacon's  Works,  259. 


TiO 


to  be  rejected ;  when  it  is  received,  it  ought  to  be 
tolerated.*  So  slowly  does  truth  make  its  way  even 
among  the  most  gifted  minds,  in  opposition  to  pre- 
conceived o|)inions  and  prejudices. 

Nay,  we  need  not  go  back  to  other  times  for 
illustrative  examples.  Is  it  even  now  true,  that  the 
doctrine  of  religious  liberty  is  received  with  entire 
approbation  in  Christendom  ?  Where  it  is  received 
with  most  favor,  is  it  not  recognised  more  as  mat- 
ter of  toleration  and  policy,  than  of  right  ?  suffered 
rather  than  supported  ?  connived  at  from  fear,  rather 
than  vindicated  upon  principle  1  Even  in  England, 
free  and  enlightened  as  she  is,  how  slow  and  reluc- 
tant has  been  the  progress  towards  a  generous  tole- 
ration. It  is  scarcely  twelve  years  since  it  ceased 
to  be  a  crime  punishable  with  fine  and  imprisonment, 
to  deny  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  The  universi- 
ties of  Oxford  and  Cambridge  are  still  by  their  stat- 
utes closed  against  the  admission  of  Dissenters  from 
the  established  church.  For  more  than  a  century 
and  a  half,  Protestant  Dissenters  of  every  descrip- 
tion were  excluded  by  law  from  the  possession  of 
offices  of  trust  or  profit  in  the  kingdom.  The  repeal 
of  the  odious  corporation  and  test  acts,  by  which 
this  exclusion  was  guarded,  was,  after  much  resist- 
ance, accomplished  only  at  the  last  session  of  Par- 
liament; and  the  celebrations  of  this  event,  of  this 
emancipation  from  religious  thraldom  of  one  third  of 
her  whole  population,  are  just  reaching  our  ears  from 
the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.      The  Catholic  yet 


*  Montesquieu's  Spirit  of  Laws,  book  26,  ch.  10, 12. 


51 


^o<in^  under  the  weight  of  disabilities  imposed  upon 
him  by  the  unrelenting  arm  of  power,  and  sickens  at 
the  annual  visitation  of  that  hope  of  relief,  which 
mocks  him  at  every  approach,  and  recedes  at  the 
very  moment,  when  it  soems  within  his  ^rasp.  Even 
in  our  own  country,  can  we  lay  our  hands  upon  our 
hearts,  and  say  with  sincerity,  that  this  universal 
freedom  of  religion  is  watched  by  none  with  jealousy 
and  discontent?  that  there  are  none,  who  would 
employ  the  civil  arm  to  suppress  heresy,  or  to  crush 
the  weaker  sects  7 

With  what  justice,  then,  shall  we  require  from  the 
Puritans  of  James's  reign,  lessons  of  Christian  liber- 
ality, which,  even  in  the  nineteenth  century,  are  re- 
jected by  statesmen  and  patriots,  by  laity  and  clergy, 
in  regions  adorned  with  all  the  refinements  of  letters, 
and  the  lights  of  science  ?  If  they  had  continued  in 
the  mother  country,  it  is  more  than  probable,  that 
persecution  would  have  taught  them,  what  reason 
and  revelation  had  failed  to  teach  them.  They 
would  have  reached  the  point,  at  which  the  Inde- 
pendents arrived  in  the  next  reign,  whose  true  glory 
it  is,  that  *  of  all  Christian  sects,  this  was  the  firsj 
which,  during  its  prosperity  as  well  as  its  adversity, 
always  adopted  the  principle  of  toleration.'  * 

But  our  forefathers  acted  far  otherwise.  The 
truth  of  history  compels  us  to  admit,  that  from  the 
first  settlement  down  to  the  charter  of  William  and 
Mary  in  1692,  in  proportion  as  they  gathered  inter- 
nal power,  they  were  less  and  less  disposed  to  share 


•  7  Hume'i  Hut.  20. 


52 


it  with  any  other  Christian  sect.    That  charter  con- 
tained an  express  provision,   that  there  should  be 
*  a  liberty  of  conscience  allowed  in  the  worship  of 
God,  to  all  Christians,  except  Papists,''     Objection- 
able as  this  clause  would  have  been  under  other 
circumstances,   the   recent  attempts   of  James  the 
Second,  to  introduce  Popery  ;  and  the  dread  which 
they  entertained  of  being  themselves  the  subjects  of 
political,  as  well  as  religious  persecution,  reconciled 
them  to  it,  and  they  hailed  it  almost  as  another  mag- 
na charta  of  liberty.*      So  true  it  is,  that  accident 
or  interest  frequently  forces  men  to  the  adoption  of 
correct  principles,  when  a  sense  of  justice  has  totally 
failed  to  effect  it.     In  the  intermediate  period,  the 
Quakers  and  Anabaptists,  and  in  short  all  other  Dis- 
senters from  their  creed,  had  been  unrelentingly  per- 
secuted   by    fine,   imprisonment,    banishment,   and 
sometimes  even  by  death  itself.     Episcopalians,  too, 
fell  under  their  special  displeasure ;   and  notwith- 
standing every  effort  of  the  Crown,  by  threats  and 
remonstrance,  they  studiously  excluded  them  from 
every  office,  and  even  from  the  right  of  suffrage. 
No  person  but  a  freeman  was  permitted  to  vote  in 
any  public  affairs,  or  to  hold  any  office ;    and  no 
person  could  become  a  freeman  but    by   being  a 
member  of  their  own  church,  and  recommended  by 
their  own  clergy.f     In  truth  the  clergy  possessed  a 
power  and  inlluence  in  the  state,  as  great  as  ever 
was   exercised    under    any    church    establishment 
whatsoever.     There  was  not,  until  after  the  repeal 
of  the  first  charter  in  1676,  a  single  Episcopal  soci- 


*  1  Hutch.  HUt.  75,  and  uote.        f  3  Hutch.  Collect.  478,  484,620,  note. 


53 


ety  in  the  whole  colony  ;  *  and  even  the  celebration 
of  Christmas  was  punishcil  as  a  public  offence,  f  In 
this  exclusive  policy  our  ancestors  obstinately  per- 
severed, against  every  remonstrance  at  home  and 
abroad.  When  Sir  Richard  Saltonstall  wrote  to  them 
his  admirable  letter,  which  pleads  with  such  a  catholic 
enthusiasm  for  toleration,  the  harsh  and  brief  reply 
was,  *  God  forbid  our  love  for  the  truth  should  be 
grown  so  cold,  that  we  should  tolerate  errors.*  I  And 
Cotton  himself,  '  whose  praise  is  in  all  our  churches,* 
the  man,  who  could  with  a  noble  independence 
address  himself  to  the  bishop  cf  Lincoln,  in  language 
like  this  ;  *  However  much  I  do  highly  prize,  and 
much  prefer  other  men's  judgment,  and  learning, 
and  Avisdom,  and  piety  ;  yet  in  things  pertaining  to 
God,  and  his  worship,  s//// /  wims^  (as  1  ought)  live 
by  my  own  faith,  not  theirs  ; '  such  a  man,  I  say,  could 
meanly  stoop  in  the  defence  of  persecution  to  ar- 
guments not  unworthy  of  the  worst  ages  of  bigotry.  § 
They  went  farther,  imitating  in  this  respect  the 
famous  act  of  uniformity  of  Elizabeth,  and  com- 
pelled an  attendance  upon  their  own  mode  of  wor- 
ship under  a  penalty.  Yes,  the  very  men  did  this, 
who  thought  paying  one  shilling  for  not  coming  to 
prayers  in  England,  was  an  unsupportable  tyranny.  || 
Yes,  the  very  men  who  asked  from  Charles  the 
Second,  after  his  restoration,  liberty  of  conscience 
and  worship   for  themselves,  were  deaf,  and  dumb, 


*3  Hutch.  Hist.  130,  131. 

t  3  Hutch.  Collect.  419,  182;  Colony  and  Province  Laws,  edit.  1811,  p.  119, 
ch.  50. 

X  3  Hutch.  Collect.  401,  402 .  §  3  Hutch.  Collect.  403. 

II 3  Hutch.  CoUect.  41S,  419,  422 ;  1  Hutch.  Hist.  75. 


54 


and  blind,  when  it  was  demanded  by  his  commis- 
sioners for  Episcopalians  and  others.  They  silently 
evaded  the  claim,  or  resolutely  refused  it,  as  the 
temper  of  the  times  enabled  them  to  act.* 

The  very  efforts  made  in  the  colony  to  establish 
this  uniformity  of  faith,  afford  striking  proofs  of  the 
utter  hopelessness,  as  well  as  injustice  of  such  at- 
tempts. Within  ten  years  after  their  first  landing, 
the  whole  colony  was  thrown  into  confusion  by 
religious  dissensions,  by  controversies  about  |  faith 
and  about  forms  of  church  government ;  about  the 
covenant  of  grace,  and  the  covenant  of  works ;  about 
liberty  of  conscience,  and  exclusiveness  of  worship ; 
about  doctrines  so  mysterious  and  subtle,  as  seem 
past  all  human  comprehension,  and  customs  so  tri- 
fling and  vain,  as  seem  beyond  the  reach  of  eccle- 
siastical censure.  Who  could  imagine,  that  the  rev- 
eries of  Mrs  Hutchinson,  and  the  question,  whether 
ladies  should  wear  veils,  and  the  legality  of  bearing 
the  cross  in  a  military  standard,  should  have  shaken 
the  colony  to  its  foundations'?  So  thickly  sown 
were  the  seeds  of  spiritual  discord,  that  more  than 
four-score  opinions  were  pronounced  heresies  by  an 
ecclesiastical  Synod  convened  in  1637.  Yet  were 
the  difficulties  far  from  being  removed,  although  fines 
and  imprisonment  and  banishment  followed  in  the 
train  of  the  excommunications  of  the  church.  The 
struggle  for  toleration  was  still  maintained  ;  the  dis- 


*  3  Hutch.  Collect.  18S,  191,  192,  193,  194,  418,  419,  422;  8  Hist.  Collect, 
(second  scries)  p.  7ti,  78 ;  1  Hutch.  Hist.  Appendix,  537 ;  3  Hutch.  Collect. 
478,  482,  484,  619,  520. 

1 1  Hutch.  Hiat  87,  55,  67,  73, 75,  430. 


55 


content  with  the  laws,  which  confined  political  privi- 
leges to  church  members,  constantly  increased  ;  and 
diversities  of  faith  at  last  grew  up,  so  numerous  .^d 
so  formidable,  that  persecution  became  less  frequent 
because  it  was  less  safe.  The  single  fact,  that  under 
this  exclusive  system,  not  more  than  one  sixth  of 
the  qualified  inhabitants  were  freemen  in  1676, 
affords  an  ample  commentary  upon  its  injustice  and 
folly.  Five  sixths  of  the  colony  were  disfranchised 
by  the  influence  of  the  ecclesiastical  power.* 

The  fundamental  error  of  our  ancestors,  an  error 
which  began  with  the  very  settlement  of  the  colony, 
was  a  doctrine,  which  has  since  been  happily  ex- 
ploded, I  mean  the  necessity  of  a  union  between 
church  and  state.  To  this  they  clung,  as  the  ark  of 
their  shA  : .  They  thought  it  the  only  sure  way  of 
foupdin^  .  christian  commonwealth.  They  main- 
tained, that  *  church  government  and  civil  govern- 
ment may  very  well  stand  together,  it  being  the  duty 
of  the  magistrate  to  take  care  of  matters  of  religion, 
and  to  improve  his  civil  authority  for  observing  the 
duties  commanded  by  it.'  f  They  not  only  tolerated 
the  civil  power  in  the  suppression  of  heresy,  but  they 
demanded  and  enjoined  it.  They  preached  it  in  the 
pulpit  and  the  synod.  It  was  in  their  closet  prayers, 
and  in  their  public  legislation.  The  arm  of  the  civil 
government  was  constantly  employed  in  support 
of  the  denunciations  of  the  church  ;  and  without  its 
forms,  the  Inquisition  existed  in  substance,  with  a 
full  share  of  its  terrors  and  its  violence.     There  was. 


*  3  Hutch.  CoUect.  484. 


1 1  Hutch.  Hist.  434. 


r  1 
4' 


56 

Jndeecl,  far  more  caution  in  shedding  human  blood  ; 
bet  there  was  scarcely  less   indulgence   for  human 
error.      For   such    procecdijigs   there  was  not  the 
poor  apology,  which  has  been  sometimes  suugested, 
that   every   religion,  A\hich  is   persecuted,  becomes 
itself  persecuting,  because  it  attacks    the  religion 
which  persecuted   ..,  not  as  a  religion^  but  as  a  tyran- 
ny*    Our  ancestors  could  not  frame  such  an   apol- 
ogy for  themsehes;    for   no  ecclesiastical  tyranny 
attempted  to  usurp  auUioiity  over  diem  within  the 
colony.     It  had  a  deeper  origin,  in  diat  wretched 
doctrine  of  tlie  union  of  church  ard  state,  l)y  which 
Christianity  has  been  made  the  minister  of  almost  every 
wrong  in  the  catalogue  of  criines.     It  has  been  said 
with  as  much  truth  as  force,  by  one  of  the  i.iost  elo- 
quent of  modern  divines,  *  that  the  boasted  alliance 
between  church  and  state,  on  which  so  many  enco- 
miums have  been  lavislied,  seems  to  have  been  but 
little  more  than  a  compact  between  die  priest  and 
the  magistrate  to  betray  the  liberties  of  mankind, 
both  civil  and  religious.'  f 

To  the  honor  of  New-England  be  it  said,  that  if 
here  persecution  obtained  an  early  triumph,  here 
also  for  the  hrst  time  since  the  Reformation  was 
simultaneously  proclaimed  the  doctrine  of  liberty  of 
conscience, — a  doctrine,  which,  I  trust,  w  ill,  by  the 
blessing  of  God,  be  maintained  by  us  and  our  pos- 
terity at  all  hazards,  and  against  all  encroachments. 
Here,  on  this  very  spot,  in  Naumkeag,  in  this  '  bosom 


•  Montesquieu's  Spirit  of  Laws,  book  25,  ch.  9. 
t  Robert  Hiill.    Pamphlet  publibhed  in  1791. 


m 


of  consolation,'  *  it  was  proclaimed  by  Rop:er  Williams 
ir.  1630;  and  for  this  amoni;  other  ^ravc  oflVnces, 
he  was  sentenced  to  banishment.  He  fled  to  Rhode- 
Island  ;  and  there  in  the  code  of  laws  for  the  colony 
planted  by  his  energy  and  sasjacity.  we  read  for  the 
first  time,  since  Christianity  ascended  the  throne  of 
the  Cicsars,  the  declaration,  that  *  conscience  should 
be  free,  and  men  should  not  be  punished  for  wor- 
shipping God  in  the  way  they  were  persuaded  he 
required,* — a  declaration,  which,  to  the  honor  of 
Rhc  de-Island,  she  has  never  departed  from, — a 
declaration,  which  puts  to  shame  many  a  realm  of 
wider  domains  and  loftier  pretensions.  It  still 
shines  among  her  laws  with  an  argument  in  its  sup- 
port in  the  shape  of  a  preamble,  which  has  rarely 
been  surpassed  in  power  of  thought  or  felicity  of 
expression.!  Massachusetts  may  blush,  that  the 
Catholic  colony  of  Lord  Baltimore,  and  the  Quaker, 
the  blameless  Quaker  colony  of  Penn,  were  originally 
founded  on  the  same  generous  principles  of  Christian 
right,  long  before  she  felt  or  acknowledged  them.J 
While,  then,  we  joyfully  celebrate  this  anniver- 
sary, let  us  remember,  that  our  forefathers  had  their 
faults,  as  well  as  virtues ;  that  their  example  is  not 
always  a  safe  pattern  for  our  imitation  ;  but  some- 


*  In  the  '  Planter's  Plea,'  published  in  London  in  1630,  the  writci  siys  that 
Nahum  Kcikc  is  perfect  Hebrew,  and  by  interpretation  means  '  The  bosom  of 
ccijsolation.' 

t  It  is  almost  in  (otidem  verbis  with  the  act  of  Virginia  of  1785,  whirh  has  been 
attributed  to  Mf.  !NYai!i«ion.  To  which  state  the  intMit  of  the  original  draft  be- 
longs, I  ittn  uiiabic  to  say,  as  I  have  rot  the  means  of  tracing  it  in  Rhode-Island 
acts  earlier  than  in  the  Digest  of  I79S. 

X  i  ^itliin'g  Hist.  56,  67;  Chalmers,  p.  218;  2  Proud's  Hist.  Append. 


58 


i 


timrs  a  boaoon  of  so'enin  warninp;.  Let  us  do,  not 
wlijit  they  ilid,  hut  what  with  our  lights  and  advan- 
tages tliey  would  have  done,  must  luive  done,  iVom 
the  love  of  count rv,  and  tlie  love  of  truth.  Is  there 
any  one,  who  would  now  for  a  moment  justify  the 
exclusion  of  every  ])erson  from  political  rights  and 
privileges,  who  is  i  '.  a  Congregationalist  of  the 
straitest  sect  in  doc  mc  and  discipline  ?  Is  there 
any  one,  who  would  exclude  the  Episcopalian,  the 
Baptist,  the  Methodist,  the  Quaker,  or  the  Univer- 
salist,  not  merely  from  power  and  Christian  fellow- 
ship, but  from  breathing  the  same  air,  and  enjoying 
the  same  sunshine,  and  reaping  the  same  harvest, 
because  he  walks  not  1"  the  same  faith,  and  kneels 
not  at  the  same  aliar,  with  himself?  Is  there  any 
one,  who  would  bring  back  the  by-gone  penalties, 
and  goad  on  tender  consciences  to  hypocrisy  or  self- 
destruction  ?  Is  there  any  one,  that  would  light  the 
faggot  to  burn  the  innocent?  that  would  stain  the 
temples  of  God  with  the  blood  of  martyrdom  ?  that 
would  cut  off  all  the  charities  of  human  life,  and  in 
a  religious  warfare,  arm  the  father  against  the  son, 
the  mother  against  the  daughter,  the  wife  against  the 
husband  ?  that  would  bind  all  posterity  in  the  fet- 
ters of  his  own  creed,  and  shipwreck  their  con- 
sciences ?  If  any  such  there  be,  w^hatever  badge 
they  may  wear,  they  are  enemies  to  us  and  our 
institutions.  They  w  )uld  sap  the  foundations  of 
our  civil  as  well  as  religious  libenies.  They  would 
betr^v  us  into  worse  than  Egyptian  bondage.  Of 
the  doctrines  of  such  men,  if  any  such  there  be,  I 
would  say  with  the  earnestness  of  the  apostolical 


59 


exhortation,  *  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not.*  If 
ever  there  could  i^e  a  case,  in  which  intolerance 
would  rise  almost  into  the  di«;iiity  ol' a  virtue,  it  would 
be,  when  its  object  was  to  ])ut  down  intolerance. 
No — let  us  cliuji;  with  a  holy  zeal  to  the  Bible,  and 
the  Bible  only,  as  the  religion  of  Protestants.  Let 
us  proclaim  with  Milton,  that  'neither  traditions,  nor 
councils,  nor  canons  of  any  visible  church,  much 
less  edicts  of  any  civil  magistrate,  or  civil  session, 
but  the  Scripture  only,  can  be  the  final  judge  or  rule 
in  matters  of  religion,  and  that  on/ij  in  the  conscience 
of  every  Christian  to  hiniseljV  Let  us  inscribe  on  the 
v-alls  of  our  dwellinghouses,  in  our  temples,  in  our 
halls  of  legislation,  in  our  courts  of  justice,  the  ad- 
mirable declaration  of  Queen  Mary  (the  consort  of 
William  the  Third),  than  which  a  nobler  precept  of 
wisdom  never  fell  from  uninspi'"  lips — '  It  is  not  in 
the  power  of  men  to  believe  what  they  please ;  and 
therefore,  they  should  not  be  forced  in  matters  of 
religion  contrary  to  their  persuasions  and  their  con- 
sciences.' * 

I  pass  with  unmixed  pleasure  to  other  and  more 
grateful  topics,  where  approbation  need  not  be  slow, 
or  praise  parsimonious.  If,  in  laying  the  foundations 
of  this  Christian  commonwealth,  our  forefathers  were 
governed  in  respect  to  religion  by  a  spirit  unworthy 
of  Protestantism,  it  was  far  otherwise  in  respect  to 
their  civil  institutions.  Here,  a  wise  forecast  and 
sound  policy  directea  all  their  operations  ;  so  wise 
and  so  sound,  that  the  lapse  of  two  hundred  years 


*  9  Hist.  CoUect.  251. 


I 


60 


I 


has  left  unchanged  the  body  of  their  legislation,  and 
in  a  generiil  sense  added  little  to  their  secturities 
for  public  or  private  rights.  There  is  no  reason  to 
suppose,  that  they  were  opposed  to  monarchy  as  a 
suitable  form  of  government  for  the  mother  country, 
or  that  opposition  to  the  civil  establishments  mingled 
in  the  slightest  degree  with  the  motives  of  their  emi- 
gration.* There  is  just  as  little  reason  to  suppose, 
that  they  desired  or  would  have  acquiesced  in  the 
establishment  of  a  colonial  monarchy  or  aristocracy. 
On  the  contrary  we  know,  that  they  refused  to  con- 
fer the  magistracy  for  life  ;  and  that  th  jy  repelled 
every  notion  of  an  hereditary  nobility  in  their  cele- 
brated answer  to  the  propositions  of  Lord  Say  and 
Seale.f  This  attachment  to  the  form  of  government 
of  the  mother  country  was  not  only  sincere,  but 
continued  down  to  the  Revolution.  Their  descend- 
ants took  many  opportunities  to  evince  it ;  and  some 
of  the  most  powerful  appeals  made  by  the  patriots 
of  the  Revolution  to  the  British  Crown  are  filled  with 
eloquent  professions  of  loyalty.  The  formation  of  a 
Republic  was  the  necessary  result  of  the  final  sepa- 
ration from  England.  The  controversy  was  then 
narrowed  down  to  the  consideration  of  what  form  of 
government  they  might  properly  adopt.  All  their 
habits,  principles,  and  institutions  prohibited  the  ex- 
istence of  a  real  or  titular  peerage.  They  had  no 
materials  for  a  king.  They  were,  as  they  had  been 
from  the  beginning,  essentially  republicans.  They 
followed  the  lead  of  their  existing  institutions ;  and 


*  3  Hutch.  Collect.  326. 


t  1  Hutch.  Hist.  490,  493,  494. 


01 


the  most  strikiiip;  chan«?o  introdiircd  hv  them  was 
the  (;hoice  of  a  governor  by  thcinsi'lves,  as  a  suhsti- 
tutu  for  the  like  choice  hy  the  Crown. 

Their  connexion  with  and  depentUMicc  upon  the 
mother  country  grew  up  from  their  national  allej^i- 
ance,  and  was  contirmed  hy  the  sense  of  their  own 
weakness  and  the  desire  of  protection.  In  return 
for  this  protection  they  were  ready  to  admit  a  sove- 
reign right  in  Parhament  to  regulate  to  some,  though 
an  undefined  extent,  their  foreign  intercourse,  and 
in  the  Crown  to  supervise  their  cok)nial  legislation. 
But  they  never  did  admit  the  right  of  Parliament  or 
the  Crown  to  legislate  generally  for  them,  or  to  in- 
terfere with  their  domestic  polity.  On  the  contrary, 
from  the  first  they  resisted  it,  as  an  encroachment 
upon  their  liberties.  This  was  more  emphatically  true 
of  Massachusetts,  than  of  any  other  of  the  Colonies. 
The  commissioners  of  Charles  the  Second  in  1665 
reported,  that  *  she  was  the  last  and  hardliest  per- 
suaded to  use  his  majesty's  name  in  the  forms  of 
justice;' — that  her  inhabitants  *  proclaimed  by  sound 
of  trumpet,  that  the  General  Court  was  the  supremest 
judicatory  in  all  that  province;'  'that  the  commis- 
sioners pretending  to  hear  appeals  was  a  breach  of 
their  privileges;'  *and  that  they  should  not  permit 
it.'*  In  short,  the  commissioners  well  described 
*  their  way  of  government,  as  commonwealth  like*  f 
Even  in  relation  to  foreign  commerce  their  strong 
sense  of  independence  was  illustrated  by  the  com- 
plaint, that  '  no  notice  was  taken  of  the  act  of  navi- 


•  3  Hutch.  Collect.  417,  418. 


t  Id.  p.  422. 


62 

gation,  plantation,  or  any  other  laws  made  in  Eng- 
land lor  the  r(;<{uhiti()i)  of  trade  ;  all  nations  having; 
free  liherty  to  c  onu-  into  their  |)orts  and  vend  their 
commodities  without  any  restraint.'*  Tliese  acts  of 
navigation  and  trade  were  never  recognised  as  in 
force  in  the  colony,  until  their  ou  n  legislature  re- 
quired their  observance.!  So  strenuous  were  our 
ancestors  even  at  this  early  period  in  inainlainiii«5 
the  doctrine,  that  Parliament  could  not  hind  them, 
because  they  were  not  represented  there.  So  jealous 
were  they  to  guard  against  every  usurpation  of  the 
Crown.  He.  indeed,  must  have  read  our  annals  with 
a  very  careless  eye,  who  does  not  perceive  at  every 
turn,  a  constant  struggle  lor  substantial  independ- 
ence. 

The  basis  of  their  institutions  was  from  the  first 
settlement  republican.  The  people  were  the  ad- 
mitted source  of  all  power.  They  chose  the  magis- 
trates and  executive.  They  established  a  represen- 
tative government;  they  created  a  colonial  legisla- 
ture, whose  power  to  enact  laws  was,  until  the 
overthrow  of  the  first  charter,  deemed  for  most 
purposes  absolute  and  supreme.  Their  earliest 
legislation  recognised  the  great  rights  secured  by 
the  Magna  Charta  of  England  ;  the  trial  by  jury ; 
the  free  administration  of  justice  ;  the  equality  of 
freemen  ;  the  abolition  of  all  slavish  and  feudal  ten- 
ures ;  and  above  all  the  distribution  of  intestate 
estates  among  all  the  descendants  of  the  deceased. 


♦  Randolph's  Letter  in  1676 ;  3  Hutch.  Collect  496. 
t  1  Hutch.  Hist.  322 ;  3  Hutch.  Collect.  621. 


03 


This  was  indeed  a  sij^nal  triumph  over  the  prejudices 
in  favor  n\'  primogeniture.  It  coiistituted  a  ruiula- 
nieni.il  priiuipU;  in  their  pohcv ;  anil  hy  its  silent 
but  irresistil»le  influence,  preventnl  the  undue  aeeu- 
nuilation  ol*  estates  in  a  few  hands,  >()  that  the  intro- 
duction of  a  colonial  nobility  became  absolutely 
impracticable.  Henceforth  the  partible  nature  of 
estates  was  so  fixed  in  public  opinion,  that  it  broke 
down  every  attempt  to  perpetuate  entails  ;  and  left 
the  mass  of  our  landed  interests,  as  we  now  find 
them,  in  the  possession  of  the  yeomanry  in  fee  sim- 
ple. While  this  great  law  of  descents  exists,  it  will 
for  ever  prevent  the  establishment  of  any  arbitrary 
power.  The  government,  that  once  admits  it  into 
its  code,  may  remain  in  form  a  monarchy,  or  an 
aristocracy ;  but  it  will  follow  the  impulses  of  public 
opinion,  and  find  its  surest  protection  in  the  advance- 
ment of  popular  principles. 

Thus  broad,  thus  elevated,  was  the  early  legisla- 
tion of  our  forefathers.  If  we  except  from  it  that 
portion,  which  was  tinged  by  the  bigotry  and  super- 
stition of  the  times,  we  shall  find  it  singular  for  its 
wisdom,  humanity,  and  public  spirit ;  and  admirably 
adapted  to  the  wants  of  a  free,  simple,  and  intelligent 
people. 

Among  the  most  striking  acts  of  their  legislation  are 
those,  which  respect  the  cause  of  learning  and  edu- 
cation. Within  ten  short  years  after  their  first  settle- 
ment they  founded  the  University  at  Cambridge,  and 
endowed  it  with  the  sum  of  four  hundred  pounds,  a 
sum,  which,  considering  their  means  and  their  wants, 
was  a  most  generous  benefaction.     Perhaps  no  Ian- 


01 


pufiUf  roiild  m(>n»  '-iicnifirantly  oxpro'is  tho  (lljjnitv  of 
thj'ir  »l<'si«(n,  thiiri  tlw  ir  own  woriN.  ♦  After  (iod  had 
carried  ns  sale  to  Nr\v-Kii<;land,'  say  they,  *  and  we 
had  hnildcd  our  houses,  ])r(>vide(l  necessaries  for 
our  livehhood,  reared  convenient  phices  for  (iodN 
worship,  and  settled  the  civil  government ;  one  of 
the  next  thir»i;s  we  longed  for,  and  looked  after,  was 
to  (uhunire  learning  and  pcriK'finifp  it  to  poslcritijf 
dreadin*:;  to  leave  an  illiterate  ministry  to  the 
churc^hes,  when  our  present  ministers  shall  lie  in  the 
dust.'*  They  were  not  disappointed  in  their  hopes. 
By  the  hiessin*;  of  Providence  this  little  College, 
planted  by  their  hands,  and  nursed  by  their  care,  has 
flourished.  Already  she  counts  nearly  six  thousand 
in  her  matriculations.  She  still  stands  erect,  in  the 
midst  of  her  offsprin";,  clothed  with  her  ancient 
glory,  and  matron  dignity,  and  lovelier  by  her  age. 
Our  hearts  still  yearn  towards  her ;  our  thoughts 
still  kindle  at  her  praise  ;  our  prayers  still  rise  for 
her  prosperity.  We  may  smile  at  the  early  charge 
made  b^'  the  royal  commissioners,  that  *  it  may  be 
feared  this  College  may  afford  us  many  schismatics 
to  the  church.' f  But  we  proudly  proclaim  their 
reluctant  confession,  that  by  her  means  there  was 
*  a  scholar  to  their  minister  in  every  town  or  village' 
of  Massachusetts. J 

But  the  truest  glory  of  our  forefathers  is  in  that 
system  of  public  instruction,  which  they  instituted 
by  law,  and  to  which  New-England  owes  more  of 
its  character,  its  distinction,  and  its  prosperity,  than 


•  1  Hist.  Collect.  240. 


t  3  Hutch.  Collect.  421. 


X  Id.  413. 


65 


to  all  other  causes.  If  this  Hystcm  hv  not  altogether 
without  example  in  the  history  of  other  nations  (as 
1  suspect  in  its  structure  and  extent  it  is),  it  is,  con- 
sidering the  age  and  means  of  the  projectors,  an 
extraordinary  instance  of  wise  legislation,  and  wor- 
thy of  the  most  profound  statesmen  of  any  times. 
At  the  distance  of  centuries  it  stands  alone  and 
unrivalled.  Europe  has  not  ventured  as  yet  to  copy 
its  outlines  ;  nor  could  they  he  copied  in  a  despotism 
without  undei*mining  its  foundations.  England  her- 
self, where  letters  and  learning  have  so  Ion  ,'  held 
the  highest  rank,  Is  but  just  beginning  to  think  se- 
riously of  a  system  of  national  instruction  ;  and  her 
statesmen  are  now  gathering  admiration  at  home  for 
schemes  of  public  education,  far,  very  far  short  of 
what  her  own  poor,  feeble,  neglected  colony  estab- 
lished at  the  starting  point  of  its  political  existence 
Yes — it  was  in  this  system  of  public  instruction,  that 
our  fathers  laid  the  foundat  on  for  the  perpetuity  of 
our  institutions,  and  for  that  growth  of  sound  morals, 
industry,  and  public  spirit,  which  has  never  yet 
been  wanting  in  New-England,  and,  we  may  fondly 
hope,  will  for  ever  remain  her  appropriate  praise. 
Yes — in  the  year  1647  they  ordered  every  township 
of  fifty  householders  to  maintain  a  public  s*  hool  at 
public  expense  ;  and  every  township  of  one  hundred 
householders  to  maintain  in  like  manner  a  grammar 
school,  to  instruct  youth  and  fit  them  for  the  University, 
*  to  the  end,'  say  they,  in  this  memorable  law,  *  to  the 
end,  that  learning  may  not  be  buried  in  the  graves  of 
our  forefathers,  in  church  and  commonwealth.'  And 
this  was  done  by  them,  when  they  had  just  made 

9 


66 


i*^ 


their  first  lodgment  in  the  wilderness ;  when  they 
had  scarcely  found  leisure  to  build,  I  do  not  say,  fair 
dwellings,  but  humble  cottages  for  their  own  shelter 
and  safety.  When  they  were  poor  and  unprotected, 
persecuted  and  in  peril — they  could  then  look  forward 
with  a  noble  disregard  of  present  enjoyments,  and 
forgetting  themselves,  provide  the  bread  of  life  for 
their  posterity.  This  system  has  never  been  broken 
in  upon ;  it  still  stands  in  its  substance  on  the  pages 
of  our  statute  book,  an  enduring  record  of  wisdom 
and  patriotism.  Under  its  blessed  influence  our  youth 
have  grown  up.  They  have  received  early  instruc- 
tion in  their  rights  and  liberties,  and  (as  the  law 
itself  requires)  *  not  only  in  sound  literature,  but  in 
sound  doctrine.'  It  is  here,  that  industry  has  learn- 
ed the  value  of  its  own  labors ;  that  genius  has 
triumphed  over  the  discouragements  of  poverty ; 
that  skill  has  given  polish  as  well  as  strength  to 
talent ;  that  a  lofty  spirit  of  independence  has  been 
nourished  and  sustained ;  that  the  first  great  lesson 
of  human  improvement  has  been  taught,  that  knowl- 
edge is  power ;  aiid  the  last  great  lesson  of  human 
experience  felt,  that  without  virtue  there  is  neither 
happiness  nor  safety. 

I  know  not  what  more  munificent  donation  any 
government  can  bestow,  than  by  providing  instruc- 
tion at  the  public  expense,  not  as  a  scheme  of  charity, 
but  of  municipal  policy.  If  a  private  person  deserves 
the  applause  of  all  good  men,  who  founds  a  single 
hospital  or  college,  how  much  more  are  they  entitled 
to  the  appellation  of  public  benefactors,  who  by  the 
side  of  every  church  in  every  village  plant  a  school 


67 


of  letters.  Other  monuments  of  the  art  and  genius 
of  man  may  perish  ;  but  these  from  their  very  nature 
seem,  as  far  as  human  foresight  can  go,  absolutely 
immortal.  The  triumphal  arches  of  other  days  have 
fallen ;  the  sculptured  columns  have  crumbled  into 
dust ;  the  temples  of  taste  and  religion  have  sunk 
into  decay  ;  the  pyramids  themselves  seem  but 
mighty  sepulchres  hastening  to  the  same  oblivion,  to 
which  the  dead  they  cover  have  long  since  passed. 
But  here,  every  successive  generation  becomes  a 
living  memorial  of  our  public  schools,  and  a  living 
example  of  their  excellence.  Never,  never  may 
this  glorious  institution  be  abandoned  or  betrayed 
by  the  weakness  of  its  friends,  or  the  power  of  its 
adversaries.  It  can  scarcely  be  abandoned  or  be- 
trayed, while  New-England  remains  free,  and  her 
representatives  are  true  to  their  trust.  It  must  for 
ever  count  in  its  defence  a  majority  of  all  those,  who 
ought  to  influence  public  affairs  by  their  virtues  or 
their  talents ;  for  it  must  be,  that  here  they  first  felt 
the  divinity  of  knowledge  stir  within  them.  What 
consolation  can  be  higher,  what  reflection  prouder, 
than  the  thought,  that  in  weal  and  in  woe  our  chil- 
dren are  under  the  public  guardianship,  and  may 
here  gather  the  fruits  of  that  learning,  which  ripens 
for  eternity. 

'  There  is  another  topic  connected  with  the  settle- 
ment of  this  country,  which  may  not  be  passed  over 
upon  this  occasion.  At  the  very  threshold  of  the 
enterprise,  a  nice  question,  both  in  morals  and  public 
law,  must  have  presented  itself  to  the  consideration 
of  conscientious  minds.     How  far  was  it  lawful  to 


i 


68 


3 
St.! 


to 


people  this  western  world,  and  deprive  the  Indians 
from  that  exclusive  sovereignty  over  the  soil,  which 
they  had  exercised  for  ages  beyond  the  reach  of 
human  tradition  ?  Men  of  deep  reflection,  and  es- 
pecially men  who  felt  a  serious  religious  accounta- 
bility for  their  conduct,  could  not  be  presumed  to 
pass  over  such  a  subject  without  weighing  it  with 
scrupulous  delicacy.  It  did  not  escape  the  attention 
of  our  forefathers.  They  met  it,  and  discussed  it 
with  a  manly  freedom ;  they  sought  neither  to  dis- 
guise their  own  opinions,  nor  to  conceal  the  real 
difficulties  of  the  inquiry. 

In  ascending  to  the  great  principles,  upon  which 
all  human  society  rests,  it  must  be  admitted,  that 
there  are  some,  which  are  of  eternal  obligation,  and 
arise  from  our  relations  to  each  other,  and  our  com- 
mon dependence  upon  our  Creator.  Among  these 
are  the  duty  to  do  justice,  to  love  mercy,  and  to 
walk  humbly  before  God.  There  are  others  again, 
which  are  merely  founded  in  general  convenience, 
and  presuppose  some  regulations  of  society,  or  con- 
ventional law.  The  rights  belonging  to  this  latter 
class  are  coextensive  only  with  the  nations,  which 
recognise  them ;  and  in  a  general  sense  cannot  be 
deemed  obligatory  upon  the  rest  of  the  world.  The 
plain  reason  is,  that  no  portion  of  mankind  has  any 
authority  delegated  to  it  by  the  Creator  to  legislate 
for,  or  bind,  all  the  rest.  The  very  equality  of  original 
rights,  which  every  argument  presupposes,  excludes 
the  notion  of  any  authority  to  control  those  rights, 
unless  it  is  derived  by  grant  or  surrender,  so  as  to 
bind  others  in  conscience  and  abstract  justice. 


69 


We  are  told  in  the  Scriptures,  that  in  the  begin- 
ning God  gave  man  dominion  over  the  earth,  and 
commanded  him  to  replenish  and  subdue  it ;  and 
this  has  been  justly  said  to  be  the  true  and  solid 
foundation  of  man's  dominion  over  it.*  But  this 
principle  does  not  lead  to  the  conclusion,  that  any 
particular  person  may  acquire  to  himself  a  permanent 
and  exclusive  interest  in  the  soil ;  much  less,  that 
any  single  nation  may  appropriate  to  itself  as  much 
of  the  surface  as  it  shall  choose,  and  thus  narrow 
down  the  common  inheritance,  and  exclude  all  others 
from  any  participation  in  its  products  for  the  supply  of 
their  own  wants.  If  any  right  can  be  deduced  from 
this  general  grant  of  dominion  to  man,  it  is  of  a  far 
more  limited  nature ;  the  right  to  occupy  what  we 
possess  during  the  time  of  possession,  the  right  of 
mere  present  enjoyment ;  which  seems  to  flow  as 
much  from  the  consideration,  that  no  one  can  show 
a  better  right  to  displace  us,  as  from  the  considera- 
tion, that  it  affords  the  only  means  of  any  enjoyment. 
But  where  shall  we  find,  independently  of  maxims 
derived  from  society,  the  right  of  any  nation  to  ex- 
clude others  from  cultivating  the  soil,  which  it  does 
not  itself  choose  to  cultivate,  but  which  may  be  in- 
dispensable to  supply  the  necessities  of  others  1 
Where  is  the  principle,  which  withdraws  from  the 
common  inheritance,  and  gives  to  a  few,  what  the 
bounty  of  God  has  provided  for  all  ?  The  truth  is 
(though  it  is  a  truth  rarely  brought  into  discus- 
sion among  civilized  nations),  that  exclusive  sove- 


*  2  BI.  Com.  2. 


70 


reignty  and  ownership  of  the  soil,  is  a  derivative 
right,  resting  upon  municipal  regulations  and  the 
public  law  of  society,  and  obtaining  its  whole  valid- 
ity from  the  recognitions  of  the  communities,  which 
it  binds,  and  the  arm  of  power,  which  encircles  and 
protects  it.  It  is  a  right  founded  upon  the  soundest 
policy,  and  has  conduced,  more  than  almost  any 
human  achievement,  to  create  the  virtues  which 
strengthen,  and  the  refinement  >  which  grace  civil- 
ized Hfe.  But  if  general  consent  should  abolish  it 
tomorrow,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say,  that  a  return 
to  the  patriarchal  or  pastoral  state  of  nations,  and 
the  community  of  property,  would  be  any  departure 
from  natural  right. 

When  this  continent  was  first  discovered,  it  be- 
came an  object  of  cupidity  to  the  ambition  of  many 
of  the  nations  of  Europe.  Each  eagerly  sought  to 
appropriate  it  to  itself.  But  it  was  obvious,  that  in  the 
mutual  struggle  for  power,  contests  of  the  most  san- 
guinary nature  would  soon  intervene,  if  some  general 
principle  were  not  adopted  by  the  consent  of  all  for 
the  government  of  all.  The  most  flexible  and  con- 
venient principle,  which  occurred,  was,  that  the  first 
discovery  should  confer  upon  the  nation  of  the  dis- 
coverer an  exclusive  right  to  the  soil,  for  the  pur- 
poses of  sovereignty  and  settlement.  This  principle 
was  accordingly  adopted,*  and  became  a  fundamental 
doctrine  in  the  code  of  legal  ethics,  by  which  the 
European  governments  regulated  their  acquisitions. 
No  European  subject  was  permitted  to  interfere 
with  it,  and  the  possession  acquired  under  it  was 
deemed  absolute  and  unquestionable.    In  respect  to 


i-^-ffaiin-- 


71 


desert  places,  the  principle,  as  one  of  peace  and 
equality  of  benefits,  is  not  perhaps  obnoxious  to 
censure.  But  in  respect  to  countries  already  inhab- 
ited, neither  its  general  justice,  nor  its  conformity 
to  public  law,  entitles  it  to  commendation.  If,  ab- 
stractedly considered,  mere  discovery  could  confer 
any  title,  the  natives  already  possessed  it  by  such 
prior  discovery.  If  this  were  put  aside,  and  mere 
possession  could  confer  sovereignty,  they  had  that 
possession,  and  were  entitled  to  the  sovereignty.  In 
she  t,  it  is  clear,  that  upon  the  principles  generally 
recognised  by  European  nations,  as  between  them- 
selves, the  natives  could  not  be  rightfully  displaced. 
And  if  they  were  not  entitled  to  the  benefit  of  those 
principles,  they  might  still  stand  upon  the  eternal 
laws  of  natural  justice,  and  maintain  their  right  to 
share  in  the  common  inheritance.  Such  a  conclu- 
sion could  not  escape  the  sagacity  of  the  statesmen 
and  princes  of  the  old  world ;  but  it  was  quite  too 
refined  to  satisfy  their  ambition  and  lust  of  dominion. 
It  was  easy  to  found  an  argument  for  the  expulsion 
of  the  natives  upon  their  infidelity  and  barbarism, 
which  allowed  them  to  be  treated  as  the  enemies  of 
God.  It  was  still  more  plausible  to  hold  out  the 
prospect  of  converting  them  to  the  Christian  faith, 
and  thus  to  secure  a  new  triumph  to  civilization  and 
the  cross.  If  their  territory  was  invaded,  and  their 
governments  were  overthrown,  if  tii°y  were  compel- 
led to  yield  to  the  superior  genius  and  power  of 
Europe,  they  would  still  receive  an  ample  compen- 
sation in  their  admission  into  the  bosom  of  European 
society  with  its  privileges  and  improvements.     Such 


I 


h^ 


■^i 


W'- 


72 


were  some  of  the  su^^estionjj,  bv  which  royal  am- 
bition sought  to  disguise  its  real  objects,  and  to  re- 
concile to  religion  itself  the  spirit  of  conquest  It 
is  but  justice,  however,  to  add,  that  there  was  no 
public  avowal,  that  the  natives  possessed  no  right 
whatsoever.  On  the  contrary  it  v  as  conceded,  that 
they  possessed  a  present  riubt  of  occupancy,  ten\- 
porary,  indeed,  and  limited,  which  might  be  surren- 
dered to  the  discovering  nation,  and  in  the  mean 
time  was  entitled  to  respect. 

Our  fon^fathers  did  not  attempt  to  justify  their 
own  emigration  and  settlement,  upon  the  European 
doctrine  of  the  light  of  discovery.  Their  patejit 
from  the  Crown  contijned  a  tyrant  jf  this  right;  but 
they  felt  that  there  was  a  more  jijeneral  question  behind. 
*  What  warrant  have  we  to  take  that  land,  which  is, 
and  hath  been  of  long  time  possessed  by  others,  the 
sons  of  Adam?*  Their  answer  is  memorable  for 
its  clearness,  streiigth,  and  bold  assertion  of  princi- 
ples. That  which  is  common  to  all  (said  they)  is 
proper  lo  none.  This  savage  people  ruleth  over 
many  land-  without  title  or  property.  Why  may  not 
Christians  have  liberty  to  go  and  dwell  amongst 
them  in  their  waste  lands  ?  God  hath  given  to  the 
sons  ot  men  a  two- fold  right  to  the  earth.  There  is 
a  natural  right  and  a  civil  right.  The  first  right  was 
natural,  when  men  held  the  earth  in  common. 
When  afterwards  they  appropriated  some  parcels  of 
ground,  by  enclosing  and  peculiar  manurance,  this 
in  time  got  them  a  civil  right.  There  is  more  than 
enough  land  for  us  and  them.  God  hath  consumed 
them  with  a  mirriculous  plague,  whereby  the  greater 


vs 


73 

part  of 

fhr 

country  is  left  void 

of  inh.i 

hitiuifs. 

Be- 

sides,  wo  s 

hal!  come  in  with  tli 

e  ^^o()(l 

leavt;  of 

the 

natives. 

* 

Such  arf^uments  were  certainly  not 

uu- 

worthy 

of 

men  of  scrupulous 

virtue. 

They  were 

aided  by  higher  considerations,  by  the  desire  to 
propagate  Christianity  among  the  Indians  ;  a  desire, 
's  bich  is  breathed  forth  in  their  confidential  papers, 
ii;  their  domestic  letters,  in  their  private  prayers,  and 
in  their  public  devotions.  In  this  object  they  were 
not  only  sincere,  but  constant.  So  sincere  and  so 
constant,  that  one  of  the  grave  accusations  against 
them  has  been,  that  in  their  religious  zeal,  they  com- 
pelled the  Indians,  by  penalties,  to  attend  public 
worship,  and  allured  them,  by  pi-esents,  to  abandon 
their  infidelity,  f  In  truth,  the  propagation  of  Chris- 
tianity was  a  leading  motive  with  many  of  the  early 
promoters  of  the  setdement ;  and  we  need  no  better 
proof  of  it,  than  the  establishment  of  an  Indian  school 
at  Harvard  College  to  teach  them  the  rudiments  of 
Christian  faith. 

Whatever,  then,  may  have  been  the  case  in  other 
parts  of  the  continent,  it  is  a  fact,  and  it  should  not 
be  forgotten,  that  our  forefathers  never  attempted  to 
displace  the  nations  by  force,  upon  any  pretence  of 
European  right.  They  occupied  and  cultivated 
what  was  obtained  by  grant,  or  was  found  vacant. 
They  constantly  respected  the  Indians  in  their  set- 
tlements and  claims  of  soil.  They  protected  them 
from  their  enemies,  when  they  sought  refuge  among 
them.     They  stimulated  no  wars  for  their  extermi- 


*  3  Hutch.  Collect.  30,  31 . 
10 


t  3  Hutch.  Collect.  2S,  32,  420,  AW. 


¥ 


71 


nation.  Dunnf^?  the  spare;  of  fifty  years,  hut  a  single 
case  of  serious  warfare  occurred ;  and  though  wc 
cannot  hut  lament  the  cruelties  then  perpetrated, 
there  is  no  pretence,  that  they  were  the  aggressors 
in  the  contest.  Whatever  complaints,  therefore,  may 
be  justly  urged  by  philosophy,  or  humanity,  or  reli- 
gion, in  our  day,  respecting  the  wrongs  and  injuries 
of  the  Indians,  they  scarcely  touch  the  Pilgrims  of 
New-England.  Their  hands  were  not  imbrued  in 
innocent  blood.  Their  hearts  were  not  heavy  with 
crimes  and  oppressions  engendered  by  avarice.  If 
they  were  not  wholly  without  blame,  they  were  not 
deep  in  guilt.  They  might  mistake  the  time,  or  the 
mode  of  christianizing  and  civilizing  the  Indians ; 
but  they  did  not  seek  pretences  to  extirpate  them. 
Private  hostilities  and  butcheries  there  might  be ; 
but  they  were  not  encouraged  or  justified  by  the 
government.  It  is  not,  then,  a  just  reproach,  some- 
times cast  on  their  memories,  that  their  religion 
narrowed  down  its  charities  to  Christians  only  ;  and 
forgot,  and  despised,  and  oppressed  these  forlorn 
children  of  the  forest. 

There  is,  indeed,  in  the  fate  of  these  unfortunate 
beings,  much  to  awaken  our  sympathy,  and  much  to 
disturb  the  sobriety  of  our  judgment ;  much  which 
may  be  urged  to  excuse  their  own  atrocities ;  much 
in  their  characters,  which  betrays  us  into  an  invol- 
untary admiration.  What  can  be  more  melancholy 
than  their  history  ?  By  a  law  of  their  nature,  they 
seem  destined  to  a  slow,  but  sure  extinction.  Every 
where  at  the  approach  of  the  white  man  they  fade 
away.     We  hear  the  rustling  of  their  footsteps,  like 


76 


that  of  tho  withered   leaves  of  autumn,  and  \\\vy  are 


for 


The 


illy  hy 


a  th( 


lass  mournli 

return  no  more.  Two  centuries  ago,  the  smoke  of 
their  wigwams  and  the  fires  of  their  councils  rose 
in  every  valley  from  Hudson's  Bay  to  the  farthest 
Florida,  from  the  ocean  to  the  Mississippi  and  the 
lakes.  The  shouts  of  victory  and  the  war-dance 
rung  through  the  mountains  and  the  glades.  The 
thick  arrows  and  the  deadly  tomahawk  whistled 
through  the  forests ;  and  the  hunter's  trace,  and  the 
dark  encampment  startled  the  wild  beasts  in  their 
lairs.  The  warriors  stood  forth  in  their  glory.  The 
young  listened  to  the  songs  of  other  days.  The 
mothers  played  with  their  infants,  and  gazed  on  the 
scene  with  warm  hopes  of  the  future.  The  aged  sat 
down ;  but  they  wept  not.  They  should  soon  be  at 
rest  in  fairer  regions,  where  the  Great  Spirit  dwelt, 
in  a  home  prepared  for  the  brave  beyond  the  wes- 
tern skies.  Braver  men  never  lived ;  truer  men 
never  drew  the  bow.  They  had  courage,  and  forti- 
tude, and  sagacity,  and  perseverance,  beyond  most  of 
the  human  race.  They  shrunk  from  no  dangers,  and 
they  feared  no  hardships. 

If  they  had  the  vices  of  savage  life,  they  had  the 
virtues  also.  They  were  true  to  their  country,  their 
friends,  and  their  homes.  If  they  forgave  not  injury, 
neither  did  they  forget  kindness.  If  their  vengeance 
was  terrible,  their  fidehty  and  generosity  were  un- 
conquerable also.  Their  love,  like  their  hate,  stop- 
ped not  on  this  side  of  the  grave.  But  where  are 
they  ?  Where  are  the  villages,  and  warriors,  and 
youth  ?     The  sachems  and  the  tribes  ?     The  hunt- 


7(1 


r  I 


ers  and  their  families?  They  have  [xrished.  They 
are  consumed.  The  wasting  pcstilenee  has  not  alone 
done  the  mighty  work.  No, — nor  famine,  nor  war. 
There  has  been  a  mightier  power,  a  moral  ranker, 
which  hath  eaten  into  their  heart-cores — a  plague 
which  the  touch  of  the.  wh'iU",  man  communicated — a 
poison,  which  betrayed  them  into  a  lingering  niin. 
The  winds  of  the  Atlantic  fan  not  a  single  region, 
which  they  may  now  call  their  own.  Already  the 
last  feeble  remnants  of  the  race  ari^  preparing  for 
their  journey  beyond  the  Mississippi.  I  see  them 
leave  their  miserable  homes,  the  aged,  the  hc^lpless, 
the  women,  and  the  warriors,  •  few  and  faint,  yet 
fearless  still.'  The  ashes  are  cold  on  their  native 
hearths.  The  smoke  no  longer  curls  round  their 
lowly  cabins.  They  move  m  with  a  slow,  unsteady 
step.  The  white  man  is  upon  their  heels,  for  terror 
or  despatch  ;  but  they  heed  him  not.  They  turn  to 
take  a  last  look  of  their  deserted  villages.  They 
cast  a  last  glance  upon  the  graves  of  their  fathers. 
They  shed  no  tears ;  they  utter  no  cries  ;  they  heave 
no  groans.  There  is  something  in  their  hearts, 
which  passes  speech.  There  is  something  in  their 
looks,  not  of  vengeance  or  submission  ;  but  of  hard 
necessity,  which  stifles  both  ;  which  choaks  all  utter- 
ance ;  which  has  no  aim  or  method.  It  is  courage 
absorbed  in  despair.  They  linger  but  for  a  moment. 
Their  look  is  onward.  They  have  passed  the  fatal 
stream.  It  shall  never  be  repassed  by  them, — no, 
never.  Yet  there  lies  not  between  us  and  them,  an 
impassable  gulf.  They  know,  and  fi  ol,  that  there 
is  for  them  still  one  remove  farther,  not  distant,  nor 


T7 


un8*«'ri.     It  i>  fn  the  ^cniTiU  hnrijil-^nnind  of  thtir 
race. 

Reason  as  wv  may,  it  is  im[K)ssible  not  to  reail  in 
such  a  fate,  m?Jch,  that  we  know  not  how  to  inter- 
pret ;  much  of  provocation  to  cruel  tleeds  and  tUcp 
resentments ;  much  of  apoloj^y  for  wron^  and  |)er- 
fuly ;  mu(  h  of  pity  min^linj^^  with  indij^natiun ;  much 
of  doubt  and  misgiving  as  to  the  j)ast ;  much  of  pain- 
ful recollections  ;  much  of  dark  forebodin»^. 

Philosophy  may  tell  us,  that  contpiest  in  other 
cases  has  adopted  the  conquered  into  its  own  bosom  ; 
and  thus  at  no  distant  period  given  them  the  com- 
mon privileges  of  subjects ; — but  that  the  red  men 
are  incapable  of  such  an  assimilation.  By  their  very 
nature  and  character  they  can  neither  unite  them- 
selves with  civil  institutions,  nor  with  safety  be  al- 
lowed to  remain  as  distinct  communities.  Policy 
may  suggest,  that  their  ferocious  passions,  their  in- 
dependent spirit,  and  their  wandering  life  disdain  the 
restraints  of  society ;  that  they  will  submit  to  su- 
perior force  only,  while  it  chains  them  to  the  earth 
by  its  pressure.  A  wilderness  is  essential  to  their 
habits  and  pursuits.  They  can  neither  be  tamed 
nor  overawed.  They  subsist  by  war  or  hunting ; 
and  the  game  of  the  forest  is  relinquished  only  for 
the  nobler  game  of  man.  The  question,  therefore, 
is  necessarily  reduced  to  the  consideration,  whelhcr 
the  country  itself  shall  be  abandoned  by  civi!i/:<  d 
man,  or  maintained  by  his  sword  as  the  right  of  the 
strongest. 

It  may  be  so ;  perhaps,  in  the  wisdom  of  Provi- 
dence, it  must  be  so.     I  pretend  not  to  comprehend, 


7« 


or  solve,  siwh  wci'^hty  <liirK  iilfit's.  J)ut  neither  phi- 
I(i>!oj)hy  nor  policy  can  shut  out  the  feelings  of 
nature.  Iluiiianify  must  continue  to  sigh  at  the  con- 
stant sarrilices  of  this  hold,  but  wasting  race.  And 
Religion,  if  she  may  not  blush  at  the  deed,  must,  as 
slu;  sees  the  successive  victims  depart,  cling  to  the 
altar  with  a  drooping  heart,  and  mourn  over  a  des- 
tiny without  hope  and  without  example./ 

Let  our  consolation  be,  that  our  forefathers  did 
not  precipitate  the  evil  days.  Their  aim  w  is  peace  ; 
their  object  was  the  propagation  of  Christianity. 

There  is  one  other  circumstance  in  the  history  of 
the  Colony,  which  deserves  attention,  because  it  has 
afforded  a  theme  for  bitter  sarcasm  and  harsh  re- 
proach ;  and  as  the  principal  scenes  of  the  tragedy 
took  place  on  this  very  spot,  this  seems  a  fit  occasion 
to  rescue  the  character  of  our  forefathers  from  the 
wanton  attacks  of  the  scolter  and  the  satirist.  I  al- 
lude to  the  memorable  trials  for  witchcraft  in  this 
town  in  1 692,  which  terminated  in  the  death  of  many 
innocent  persons,  partly  from  blind  credulity  and 
partly  from  overwhelming  fraud.  The  whole  of  these 
proceedings  exhibit  melancholy  proofs  of  the  effect 
of  superstition  in  darkening  the  mind,  and  steeling 
the  heart  against  the  dictates  of  humanity.  Indeed, 
nothing  has  ever  been  found  more  vindictive  and 
cruel  than  fanaticism,  acting  under  the  influence  of 
preternatural  terror,  and  assuming  to  punish  offences 
created  by  its  own  gloomy  reveries.  Under  such 
circumstances  it  becomes  itself  the  very  demon, 
whose  agency  it  seeks  to  destroy.  It  loses  sight  of 
all  the  common  })riiiciples  of  reason  and  evidence. 


79 


It  s<;c.s  nothing;  iiroiind  it  but  victims  lor  sacrit'ici;. 
Ir  h(!;irM  nolhiiii;  but  the  voire  of  its  own  vcii^^i'uiice. 
It  bt'lii'ves  nothiiyn  but  what  in  nioiistrou.s  and  iii- 
rrcdiblc.  It  conjures  up  every  plKiiitoni  of  supiT- 
stition,  and  shapes  it  to  the  living;  form  of  its  own 
passions  and  frenzies.  In  short,  insanity  eoulil  hardly 
devise  more  rclineiTienls  in  barbarity,  or  prolli^acy 
execute  them  with  more  malij^nant  coohiess.  In  the 
wretched  butcheries  of  these  times  (for  so  they  in 
fact  were),  in  which  law  and  reason  were  ctpially 
set  at  defiance,  we  have  shocking  instances  of  un- 
natural conduct.  We  find  parents  accusing  their 
children,  children  their  parents,  and  wives  their  hus- 
bands, of  a  crime,  which  must  brinp;  them  to  the 
scaffold.  We  find  innocent  persons,  misled  by  the 
hope  of  pardon,  or  wrought  up  to  frenzy  by  the  pre- 
tended sufferings  of  others,  freely  accusing  them- 
selves of  the  same  crime.  We  find  gross  })erjury 
practised  to  procure  condemnations,  sometimes  for 
self-protection,  and  sometimes  from  utter  reckless- 
ness of  consequences.  We  find  even  religion  itself 
made  an  instrument  of  vengeance.  We  find  minis- 
ters of  the  gospel  and  judges  of  the  land  stimulating 
the  work  of  persecution,  until  at  last  in  its  progress 
its  desolations  reached  their  own  fire-sides.* 

And  yet,  dark  and  sad  as  is  this  picture,  it  furnish- 
es no  just  reproach  upon  this  ancient  town,  beyond 
what  belongs  to  it  in  common  with  all  New-England, 
and,  indeed,  with  all  Christendom.  Thirty  years 
before   this  period  there  had  been   executions  for 


*  2  Hutch.  Hist.  IG  to  60,  &c. 


HO 


? 


witchcrart  'u\  this  and  other  colonies,  in  Charlestown, 
Boston,  S}-.rin^lieKl,  and  Hartt'ord.  It  has  been  just- 
ly observed  by  an  intelligent  historian,*  that  the  im- 
portance ^ivQii  to  the  ew-England  trials  proceeded 
more  from  the  general  panic,  than  from  the  number 
executed,  *  more  having  been  put  to  death  in  a  single 
county  in  England,  in  r^  short  space  of  time,  than 
have  suffered  in  all  New-England  from  the  first  set- 
tlement to  the  present  time.* 

Our  forefathers  were  sincere  believers  in  the  reality 
of  witchcraft ;  and  the  same  opinion  then  prevailed 
throughout  all  Europe.  The  possibility,  nay,  the  ac- 
tual existence  of  a  commerce  with  evil  spirits,  has 
liad  in  its  support  the  belief  of  many  enlightened 
nations  of  the  world.  Mr.  Justice  Blackstone  has 
not  scrupled  to  declare,  that  to  deny  it  *  is  at  once 
flatly  to  contradict  the  revealed  word  of  God  in  va- 
rious passages  both  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament.'  f 
I  meddle  net  with  this  matter  of  controversial  divinity. 
But  it  is  certain,  that  from  the  earliest  times  it  has 
been  punished  as  a  crime  in  all  Christian  countries, 
and  generally,  as  a  mark  of  peculiar  horror  and  de- 
testation, wi^h  death.  Such  was  its  punishment  in 
England  at  the  time  of  the  emigration  of  our  ances- 
tors ;  and  such  it  continued  to  be  until  the  reign  of 
George  the  Second.  Surely,  when  we  read  of  con- 
victions before  so  mild  and  enlightened  a  judge,  as 
Sir  Matthew  Hale,  it  should  excite  no  surprise,  that 
our  own  judges  were  not  superior  to  the  delusion  ; 
that  they  possessed  not  a  wisdom  beyond  the  law, 


*  2  Ildtch.  Hint.  15,  IG 


t  I  HI.  Com.  60  ;  3  Inst.  43. 


81 


nor  a  power  to  resist  the  general  credulity,  ^^y 
Lord  Coke,  in  the  siinplieity  of  his  own  hehef,  loads 
witches  witii  the  most  opprobrious  epitliets,  as  *  hor- 
rible, devilish,  and  wicked  oU'enders;'*  and  the 
Parliament  ol"  king  Jame^  the  First  has  enumeratetl, 
in  studied  detail,  divers  modes  of  conjuration  and 
enchantment,  upon  which  it  has  inilicted  the  punish- 
ment of  death. f  Lord  J3acon  has  lent  the  credit  of 
his  own  great  name  to  preserve  some  of  the  wonders 
and  ointments  of  witchcraft,  with  sundry  wholesome 
restrictions  upon  our  belief  of  their  ellicacy.J  And 
we  have  high  authority  for  saying,  that  '  it  became  a 
science,  every  where  much  studied  and  cultivated, 
to  distinguish  a  true  witch  by  proper  trials  and 
symptoms.'  § 

We  may  lament,  then,  the  errors  of  the  times, 
which  led  to  these  persecutions.  But  surely  our 
ancestors  had  no  special  reasons  for  shame  in  a  be- 
lief, which  had  the  universal  sanction  of  their  own 
and  all  former  ages  ;  which  counted  in  its  train  phi- 
losophers, as  well  as  enthusiasts  ;  which  was  graced 
by  the  learning  of  prelates,  as  well  as  the  counte- 
nance of  kings  ;  which  the  lav/  supported  by  its 
mandates,  and  the  purest  judges  felt  no  compunc- 
tions in  enforcing.  Let  Witch  Hill  remain  for  ever 
memora])lc  by  this  sad  catastrophe,  not  to  perpetuate 
our  dishonor,  but  as  an  aiTecting,  enduring  proof  of 
human  infirmity;  a  proof,  that  perfect  justice  belongs 
to  one  Judgment-seat  only,  that  which  is  linked  to 
the  Throne  of  God. 


*  3  [n*t.  44.  t  H'iJ.  4f,  45. 

§  7  Hume's  HUt.  18.;. 

11 


t  2  IJacon's  "Works,  27,  45,  6<). 


82 


T'iitk;  would  \\\\]  mo  to  2;o  at  lan^r  into  the  history 
of  New-Kii^laiul,  and  my  own  streni^tlj,  as  wcdl  as 
your  pationcc,  is  far  spent.  Vet  it  should  not  be 
concealed,  that  we  have  a  proud  consciousness  of 
the  spirit  and  principles  of  our  fathers  throughout 
every  ])eriod  of  their  colonial  existence.  At  no  time 
were  they  the  advocates  of  passive  obedience  and 
non-resistance  to  rulers  at  home  or  abroad.  At  all 
times  they  insisted,  that  the  ri^ht  of  taxation  and 
the  right  of  representation  were  inseparable  in  a 
free  government ;  and  that  on  that  account  the  power 
of  taxation  was  vested  exclusively  in  their  own  co- 
lonial legislature.  At  all  times  they  connected  them- 
selves, with  a  generous  iidelity,  to  the  fortunes  of  the 
mother  country,  and  sliared  the  common  burthens, 
and  bore  the  common  haixlships  with  cheerfulness. 
The  sons  of  New-England  were  found  in  her  ranks 
in  battle,  foremost  in  danger ;  but,  as  is  not  unusual 
in  colonial  service,  lates"  in  the  rewards  of  vic- 
tory. An  ante-revolutionary  historian  of  unquestion- 
able accuracy  has  said,  that  '  in  the  course  of  sixty 
years  the  Province  of  Massachusetts  hath  been  at  a 
greater  expense,  and  hath  lost  more  of  its  inhabitants, 
than  all  the  other  colonies  upon  the  continent  taken 
together.'  In  the  Indian  wars,  in  the  successive 
attacks  upon  the  French  colonies,  and  in  the  capture 
of  Quebec  and  the  Canadas,  they  bore  an  honorable 
and  importatit  part.  Even  when  their  first  charter 
was  vacated,  their  resistance  to  the  arbitrary  measures 
of  Sir  Edmund  Andros  was  but  a  prelude  to  the 
principles  and  practice  of  the  Revolution. 


88 


Of  the  memoraMe  events  of  a  later  period  ;  of  the 
resistanee  to  Brili>h  oj)j)i\'ssioii ;  of  the  jilorious  war 
of  Indepeiulence  ;  of  tin;  siil)>  jtiULiit  esiuhH.vliment 
of  tlie  nalioiKil  <i;()vt'riinient,  I  neLil  n',i  «pealv.  They 
are  faniihar  to  all  of  us;  hut  thouj;h  repeated  for  the 
thousandtii  time,  ihev  still  possess  an  aniniatinj;  fresh- 
ness. In  the  struii;j;le  for  indepenileuce,  in  which 
all  the  eoloni<)s  embarked  in  a  common  cause,  and 
all  exhibited  examples  of  heroism  and  public  spirit, 
in  which  all  seemed  to  for^^et  themselves  and  remem- 
ber only  their  country,  it  would  be  invidious  to  draw 
comparisons  of  relative  merit,  since  the  true  glory 
of  each  is  in  the  a,!i;gre,i:;ate  achievements  of  all. 
Throughout  the  contest,  the  citizens  of  various  states 
fought  side  by  side,  and  shared  the  common  toils. 
Their  sufferings  and  their  fame  were  blended  at 
every  step,  in  the  hour  of  peril,  and  in  the  hour  of 
triumph.  Let  not .  those  be  separated  in  death,  who 
in  life  were  not  divided. 

But  I  may  say,  that  New-England  was  not  behind 
the  other  states  in  zeal,  in  public  sacrifices,  in  con- 
tributions of  men  and  money,  in  firmness  of  k  <  )lve, 
or  in  promptitude  of  action.  The  blood  of  her  chil- 
dren was  freely  poured  not  only  on  her  own  soil, 
but  in  every  field,  where  armies  met  in  hostile  array. 
It  llowed  not  on  the  land  alone  ;  the  ocean  received 
it  into  its  swelling  bosom.  Wherever  the  battle  raged, 
they  were  found  ;  and  many  a  gallant  spiiit  breathed 
his  last  breath  on  the  deck,  with  his  thoughts  still 
warm  with  the  love  of  his  native  Xew-England. 
Let  a  single  fact  concerning  Massachusetts  sullice  to 
estabUsh  no  mean  claim  to  respect.     Upon  the  final 


li 


w 


84 


afljustmpnt  of  tho  arronnts  of  the  rrvoliitionary  war, 
althoii<i;h  her  own  soil  had  been  hut  for  a  short  perioil 
occu))i('(l  by  the  ciu'niy,  she  luitl  expended  eii!;hleen 
milhc.n.-  of  flolhirs,  and  the  hahmee  then  due  to  her 
exceech-d  omi  million.  One  state  oidy  in  the  LTnion 
surpassed  her  in  expenditures,  and  none  in  the  bal- 
ance in  her  favor.*  J3ut  this  would  <;ive  a  very 
iiia(le(juat(;  view  of  lier  real  ellbrts.  Her  voluntary 
bounti.' s  upon  enlistments,  her  town  and  county  con- 
tributions, ai'c  almost  incredible,  when  we  consider 
the  general  poverty  and  distress.  But  I  forbear. 
Much  mi-  ;t  be  urged  in  her  favor,  much  in  favor  of 
her  New-lJngland  sisters,  which  has  been  sometimes 
remembered,  only  to  be  forgotten.  Much  might  be 
said  of  the  lon<j;  array  of  statesmen  and  divines  and 
lawyers  and  physicians,  of  the  literature  and  science, 
which  have  adorned  our  annals.  Let  it  j^ass — let  it 
pass.  Their  works  shall  praise  them.  They  cannot 
be  concealed,  Avhenever  the  deeds  of  our  country 
are  recited.  The  writer  of  the  d<iclaration  of  Inde- 
pendence is  not  ours ;  but  the  author  of  the  act  it- 
self reposes  among  us.  He,  who  was  '  first  in  war, 
first  in  peace,  and  first  in  the  hearts  of  his  country- 
men,' sleeps  in  his  native  soil  by  the  side  of  the  beau- 
tiful Potomac.  But  the  Colony  of  Roger  Williams,  of 
narrow  territory,  but  of  ample  enterprise,  may  boast 
of  one,  second  in  excellence  only  to  Washington. 

But  while  we  review  our  past  history,  and  recollect 
what  we  have  been,  and  are,  the  duties  of  this  day 
were  but  ill  performed,  if  we  stopped  here ;  if  turning 


*  2  Pitkiu's  H)8t.  of  United  Stales,  p.  538. 


i 


85 


from  the  past,  and  cntcrintj  on  tho  third  rontiirv  of  our 
political  existence,  we  <^ave  no  heed  to  the  voice  of 
experience,  and  dweh  not  with  th()u;j;hts  of  earnest, 
busy  sohcitude  upon  the  future.  What  is  to  he  the 
destiny  of  this  Repuhhe  ?  In  proposing;  this  (piestion, 
I  (h'oj)  all  lliou!j;ht  of  Xew-E. inland.  She  has  hound 
herself  to  the  fate  of  the  Union.  May  she  be  true 
to  it,  now,  and  for  ever;  true  to  it,  because  true  to 
herself,  true  to  her  own  principles,  t.-ue  to  the  cause 
of  relii!;ion  and  liberty  throuii^iiout  the  world.  I  speak 
then  of  our  common  country,  of  that  blessed  mother, 
that  has  nursed  us  in  her  kip,  and  led  us  I'p  to  man- 
hood. What  is  her  destiny  ?  Whither  does  the 
fin<j;cr  of  fate  point '?  Is  the  career,  on  which  we 
have  entered  to  be  bri2;ht  with  ages  of  onward  and 
upward  glory  ?  Or  is  our  doom  already  recorded  in 
the  past  history  of  the  earth,  in  the  past  lessons  of 
the  decline  and  fail  of  other  republics  ?  If  we  are  to 
flourish  with  a  vigorous  growth,  it  must  be  (I  think) 
by  cherishing  principles,  institutions,  pursuits,  and 
morals,  such  as  planted,  and  have  hitherto  support- 
ed New-England.  If  we  are  to  fall,  may  she  still 
possess  the  melancholy  consolation  of  the  Trojan 
patriot; 

*  Snt  patriae  Piiamoque  datum  ;  si  Purgama  dextr^ 
Deiendi  possent,  etiani  hiic  dufensa  fuissent.'  -     . 

I  would  not  willingly  cloud  the  pleasures  of  such 
a  day,  even  with  a  transient  shade.  I  would  not, 
that  a  single  care  should  flit  across  the  polished 
brow  of  hope,  if  considerations  of  the  highest  mo- 
ment did  not  demand  our  thoughts,  and  give  us 
counsel  of  our  dutieii.    Who,  indeed,  can  look  around 


86 


hirr  upon  the  attractions  of  this  scene,  upon  the  faces 
of  llie  lKij)py  and  the  free,  the  smiles  of  yoinhful 
beauty,  the  i(races  of  matron  virtue,  the  strouL;  intellect 
of  manhood,  and  the;  dignity  of  a<;e,  and  iiail  these  as 
the  accompaniments  of  peace  and  independence  ; — 
who  can  look  around  him  and  not  at  the  same  time 
feel,  that  change  is  written  on  al!  the  works  of  man; 
that  the  breath  of  a  tyrant,  or  the  fury  of  a  corruj)t 
populace,  may  destroy  in  one  hour,  what  centuries 
have  slowly  consolidated.  It  is  the  privilege  of  great 
minds,  thnt  to  them  '  coming  events  cast  their  shad- 
ows before.'  We  may  not  possess  this- privilege  ; 
but  it  is  ii'de  wisdom,  not  to  blind  ourselves  to  dan- 
gers, '^hich  are  in  full  view ;  and  true  prudence,  to 
guai  !  gainst  those,  of  which  experience  has  already 
admonisiK.  '  as. 

When  we  reflect  on  what  has  been,  and  is,  how  is 
it  possille  not  to  feel  a  profound  sense  of  the  re- 
sponsibleness  of  this  Republic  to  all  future  ages. 
What  vast  motives  press  upon  us  for  lofty  efforts. 
What  brilliant  prospects  invite  our  enthusiam.  What 
solemn  warnings  at  once  demand  our  vigilance,  and 
moderate  our  confidence. 

The  old  world  has  already  revealed  to  us  in  its 
unsealed  books. the  beginning  and  end  of  all  its  own 
marvellous  struggles  in  the  cause  of  liberty.  Greece, 
lovely  Greece,  '  the  land  of  scholars  and  the  nurse 
of  arms,'  where  sister  republics  in  fair  processions 
chanted  the  praises  of  liberty  and  the  gods  ;  where, 
and  what  is  she?  For  two  thousand  years  the  op- 
pressor has  bound  her  to  the  earth.  Her  arts  are 
no  more.     The  last  sad  relics  of  her  temples  are  but 


87 


the  barracks  of  a  ruthless  sohlierv  ;  tho  frai^mcnts  of 
her  coliiiniis  ami  iier  pahices  are  in  the  ilust,  yet 
beautiful   in   ruin.     She  fell  not,   ulien    the   miu;lity 


were   upoi 


I   l)er.     Her   sons   were   united   at    Ther- 


mopvhe  and  Marathon  ;  and  the  tiile  of  her  triumph 
rolled  back  upon  the  Hellespont.     She  was  concjuer- 
ed  by  her  own  factions.     She  fell  by  the  hands  of 
her  own  people.     The  Man  of  Macedonia  did  not 
the  work  of  destruction.     It  was   already   done  by 
her  own  corruptions,  banishments,  and  dissensions. 
Rome,  republican   Rome,  whose   eagles  glanced  in 
the  rising  and  setting  sun,  where,  and  what  is  she  ? 
The  eternal  city  yet  remains,  proud  even  in   her 
desolation,  noble  in  her  decline,  venerable  in   the 
majesty  of  religion,  and  calm  as  in  the  composure  of 
death.     The  malaria  has  but  travelled  in  the  paths 
worn  by  her  destroyers.     More  than  eighteen  cen- 
turies have  mourned  over  the  loss   of  her  empire. 
A  mortal  disease  was  upon  her  vitals  before  Ctesar 
had  crossed  the  Rubicon  ;  and  Brutus  did  not  restore 
her  health  by  the  deep  probings  of  the  senate  cham- 
ber.    The  Goths  and  Vandals  and  Huns,  the  swarms 
of   the    North,    completed   only  what   was    already 
begun    at   home.      Romans   betrayed   Rome.     The 
legions  were  bought  and  sold  ;  but  the  people  offer- 
ed the  tribute  money. 

And  where  are  the  republics  of  modern  times, 
mliich  clustered  round  immortal  Italy?  Venice  and 
Genoa  exist  but  in  name.  The  Alps,  indeed,  look 
down  upon  the  brave  and  peaceful  Swiss  in  their 
pative  fastnesses  ;  but  the  guaranty  of  their  freedom 
IS  in  their  weakness,  and  not  in  their  strength.     The 


88 


f 


mountains  are  not  easily  crossed,  and  the  vallies  are 
not  easily  rctaiiu'd.  When  the  invader  comes,  he 
moves  hke  an  avalanche,  carryinu;  chstruction  in  his 
path.  The  peasaniry  sinks  helbre  liiin.  The  eonn- 
try  is  too  poor  lor  j)hinder  ;  and  too  roujj;h  lor  valua- 
ble con(|uest.  iXature  presents  her  eternal  barriers 
on  exery  side  to  cheek  the  wantonness  of  ambition ; 
and  Switzerland  remains  with  her  simple  institutions, 
a  military  road  to  fairer  climates,  scarcely  worth  a 
permanent  ))ossession,  and  protected  by  the  jealousy 
of  her  neighbours. 

We  stand  the  latest,  and,  if  we  fail,  probably  the 
last  experiment  of  self-government  by  the  people. 
We  have  begun  it  under  circumstances  of  the  most 
auspicious  nature.     We  are  in  the  vigor  of  youth. 
Our  growth  has  never  been  checked  by  the  f  ppres- 
sions  of  tyranny.     Our  constitutions  have  never  been 
enfeebled  by  the  vices  or  luxuries  of  the  old  world. 
Such  as  we  are,  we  have  been  from  the  beginning ; 
simple,  hardy,  intelligent,  accustomed  to  self-govern- 
ment and  self-respect.     The  Atlantic  rolls  between 
us  and  any  formidable  foe.     Within  our  own  terri- 
tory,  stretching  through  many  degrees   of  latitude 
and  longituile,  we  have  the  choice  of  many  products, 
and  many  means  of  independence.     The  government 
is  mild.    Tlie  press  is  free.    Religion  is  free.     Know- 
ledge reaches,  or  may  reach,  every  home.     What 
fairer   prospect   of   success    could    be    presented  ? 
W^hat  means  more  adecpiate  to  accompUsh  the  sub- 
lime end  ?     What  more  is  necessary,  than  for  the 
people  to  preserve  what  they  themselves  have  cre- 
ated? 


89 


Already  has  the  aiijc  caught  the  spirit  of  our  insti- 
tutions. It  lias  already  ascended  tiie  Andes,  and 
snulled  the  breezes  of  both  oceans.  It  has  infused 
itself  into  the  life-blood  of  Europe,  and  wanned  the 
sunny  plains  of  France,  and  the  low  lands  of  Hol- 
land. It  has  touched  the  philosophy  of  Germany 
and  the  North,  and,  moving  onward  to  the  Souths 
has  opened  to  Greece  the  lessons  of  her  better 
days. 

Can  it  be,  that  America  under  such  circumstances 
can  betray  herself  7  That  she  is  to  be  added  to  the 
catalogue  of  republics,  the  inscription  upon  whose 
ruins  is,  '  They  were,  but  they  are  not.'  Forbid  it, 
my  countrymen ;  forbid  it,  Heaven.  ^ 

I  call  upon  you,  fathers,  by  the  shades  of  your 
ancestors,  by  the  dear  ashes  which  repose  in  this 
precious  soil,  by  all  you  are,  and  all  you  hope  to  be ; 
resist  every  project  of  disunion,  resist  every  en- 
croachment upon  your  liberties,  resist  every  attempt 
to  fetter  your  consciences,  or  smother  your  public 
schools,  or  extinguish  your  system  of  public  instruc- 
tion. 

I  call  upon  you,  mothers,  by  that  which  never 
fails  in  woman,  the  love  of  your  offspring;  teach  them, 
as  they  climb  your  knees,  or  learn  on  your  bosoms, 
the  blessings  of  liberty.  Swear  them  at  the  altar,  as 
with  their  baptismal  vows,  to  be  true  to  their  coun- 
try, and  never  to  forget  or  forsake  her. 

I  call  upon  you,  young  men,  to  remember  whose 
sons  you  are  ;  whose  inheritance  you  possess.  Life 
can  never  be  too  short,  which  brings  nothing  but 
disgrace  and  oppression.     Death  never  comes  too 

12 


90 


sf)fm,  if  necessary  in  (Itfoncc  of  the  liberties  of  your 
counlry. 

\  call  upon  you,  old  men,  for  your  counsels,  and 
your  prayers,  and  vour  bencuietions.  M:?y  nr)t  your 
grey  hairs  go  down  in  sorrow  to  the  grave  with  the 
recollection,  that  you  have  lived  in  vain.  May  not 
your  last  sun  sink  in  the  west  upon  a  nation  of 
slaves. 

No — I  read  in  the  destiny  of  my  country  far  bet- 
ter hopes,  .ar  brighter  visions.  We,  who  are  now 
assem!)led  here,  must  soon  be  gathered  to  the  con- 
gregation of  other  d?ivs.  The  time  of  our  departure 
is  at  hand,  to  make  way  for  our  children  upon  the 
theatre  of  life.  May  God  speed  tlicm  and  theirs. 
May  he,  who  at  the  distance  of  another  century 
shall  stand  here  to  celebrate  this  day,  still  look  round 
upon  a  free,  happy,  and  virtuous  people.  May  he 
have  reason  to  exult  as  we  do.  May  he,  with  all  the 
enthusiasm  of  truth  as  wc!)  as  of  poetry,  exclaim, 
that  here  is  still  his  counny, 

'  Zealous,  yet  modesi ,  iwiocent,  though  free  ; 
Patient  of  toil ;  serene  amidst  alarms ; 
Inflexible  in  faith  ;  invincible  in  arms.' 


